


water all around

by bereft_of_frogs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: (it's mostly plot actually how did that happen), Action/Adventure, Angst, Bath Sex, Blood Magic, Drowning, Hand Jobs, Horror, M/M, Magic, Mystery, Nostalgia, Oaths & Vows, Porn With Plot, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Pre-Thor (2011), Reconciliation, Reconciliation Sex, Riddles, Royalty, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Inexperience, Sibling Incest, Suspense, Thor (Marvel) is Not Stupid, Thorki Big Bang 2019, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-01-30 23:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21436531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bereft_of_frogs/pseuds/bereft_of_frogs
Summary: The princes of Asgard are young, arrogant, and completely absorbed in each other. When the pressure of hiding the intensity of their relationship becomes too much for them, they take off on an extended trip. One that eventually sees them riding to an isolated mountain village to investigate a series of disappearances, and nearly fall prey to the mystery as well.Hundreds of years later, traveling through space with a ship full of refugees, their relationship is as intense and overwrought as ever. But Thor fears traveling back down that path, until a conversation about their shared misadventures brings them crashing back together.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 161
Collections: Thorki Big Bang 2019





	1. an inn at the edge

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first actual Thor/Loki fic! I hope you all enjoy the results of my dipping my toes in the water! 
> 
> Art is by [@thunderingraven](https://thunderingraven.tumblr.com/) and can also be [found here!](https://thunderingraven.tumblr.com/post/189133484711/i-worked-with-bereft-of-frogs-on-the-thorki-big) Also big, big thanks to [loxxlay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loxxlay) for patiently beta reading! 
> 
> Thanks to the organizers of the Thorki big bang for giving me the excuse to write this! I'm actually really happy with how things turned out, and I've been wanting to post this for so long and I'm so happy posting date has finally come.
> 
> Enjoy! <3
> 
> additional warnings: prostitution mention, voyeurism, animal sacrifice, mention of rape, implied (offscreen) dubiously consensual sex, some underage sex (most of the pre-Thor sections of this fic are when they are young adults, but there is a flashback to when they're slightly younger, like teens), mentions of past torture, memory loss

They told him he was a fool. He laughs in their faces, calls them superstitious cowards, and brazenly walks into the eastern wood.

It had been a hard winter, a lean harvest the year before, and hunting the surrounding forests was overcrowded, game sparse. He has no choice but to turn to the allegedly cursed forests to the eastern edge. Game _must_ be plentiful there, with how even the most rational villagers avoid it. Their neglect _must_ have led to an explosion of the herds, an entire untapped resource just waiting for the taking.

It is not his fault his fellow villagers seemed to have lost their heads and eschewed a tract of land that was sure to have perfectly good meat. After this trip, he could feed his family and prove to these fools that they were being ridiculous, two birds with one stone. They would begin to take him seriously again, give him the respect he deserved. He would earn his place back in the village, the respect and authority his grandfather had commanded, and that his father had squandered with drinking and gambling and whores.

The morning he leaves dawns cold and foggy. He passes two women on his way to the gate. Each scowl and make a sign to ward off evil with their gnarled hands. He just laughs and shakes his head at their foolishness. The gate creaks shut behind him, and he sets out on the overgrown game trail into the forest.

The trip remains uneventful for the first day and a half. He kills a few pheasants and rabbits, but at midday on the second day of his hunt, he finds the tracks of deer. Several, traveling together. He smiles to himself and sets off in pursuit.

A few hours into tracking the herd, a piercing shriek rings out. The other sounds of the forest go silent. The trees stop rustling. The calls of birds and the cheeping insects cease immediately. The scream rings out again.

His heart beats fast in his chest, cold sweat dripping down the back of his neck. It could be a fox. It could be his imagination. But he thinks of the rumors from the village and feels the first pang of concern that they might actually be true.

At the moment he felt that first blip of anxiety, it was already too late.

\- - - - - - -

The rain is incessant. Thick, freezing cold drops pound down on them. They can barely see a foot from their faces, but they continue urging their horses forward through the tempest.

Soaked through to the bone and miserable, the two princes of Asgard slowly ride along the road.

“Thor!” Loki finally cries. “Stop!”

Thor halts his mount, twisting in the saddle. “What?” He calls over the roar of the storm.

“We _have_ to stop! We’re never going to make it all the way in this weather.”

Thor grins. “What, brother, can’t handle a little storm?” As if to punctuate his point, lightning strikes a tree not far into the forest and the resounding boom shakes the earth. Thor’s grin only widens into a feral smile, buoyed by the storm.

“This is more than a little rain! Why not send it away, if you’re so eager to go on?”

“You _know_ that’s not how it works, Loki. And besides, were you not the one last month who was lecturing me on disrupting natural weather patterns by conjuring-”

“Thor!” Loki’s frustrated cry is nearly drowned out by another boom of thunder. “We’re soaked! We're sinking into the mud! We must stop for the night!”

“It’s barely mid-afternoon!”

“It is as dark as night now!” Loki huffs and wipes his soaked hair off his face. “There is a tavern, down the left fork.” He gestures at the divide in the path. “Remember?”

“It’s out of our way.”

“By an hour, perhaps. We can make it up quickly enough tomorrow when this storm passes. Unless you can banish this storm yourself, we _must_ stop!”

Thor sighs, looking at the right fork wistfully. “Fine,” He finally acquiesces. “We stop.”

The tavern is more out of the way than they had recalled, and their progress is hindered by the storm. It takes them until near evening to make it, but they find a blissfully warm and well-lit tavern upon their arrival. A stable boy takes their horses and they stamp their way into the barroom, dripping all over the wood floor. Loki stays in a _mood_, and Thor is smart enough not to comment.

This phase of their trip had dragged, their quarry better at evading them than they had predicted. They had been traveling for some months and passed through this small town several weeks earlier, tracking rumors of a herd of griffons on the steppes. The quest had thus far only yielded cold trails and worn away traces on the landscape. Finally they met a group of travelers who over a campfire had told them of rumors, not too far away, of mysterious disappearances in a wood. Whispers amongst travelers and hunters of a curse, fallen on an isolated mountain village.

Loki had turned to him with an intrigued gleam in his eye. When they were alone, he asked, “So? What do you think, brother?”

“I think a curse is as good as any hunt. Perhaps we may return to Asgard with tales of heroism.”

Their excitement at a new quest had sent them hastily retracing their steps, back past this village and through the mountains.

Loki’s mood only soured with the turning of the weather. He remains sullen and silent as Thor gives the innkeeper a warm smile. Dressed in their plain, rough hunting clothes, they are unrecognizable as princes, just as they want it. Though anonymity comes at a price. The innkeeper rudely makes him wait, not even looking up to greet them as he finishes scribbling something in a logbook.

“We’re nearly full up,” He finally says gruffly, still not looking up. “And all our girls are booked for the night, so you’ll not think to sneak a sampling.”

“My brother and I are just seeking shelter from the storm for the night. We’ve been camping for weeks, a simple room is all we desire, I assure you.”

The innkeeper grunts, eyeing them. “We’ve one in the attic, under the dormers. And you’ve missed dinner.”

Thor keeps the patient smile on his face. “That is fine.” Loki huffs beside him. Thor pays for the night and a maid shows them up the rickety stairs to the attic. They pass two of the inn’s working girls on the stairs. Thor misses neither their appreciative stares at him, nor Loki’s eye roll.

“Here it is,” The woman unlocks the door. “Water’s at the end of the hall. Breakfast is served at dawn. You’d best keep to yourself up here, these rooms are normally rented by the hour. We get all types up here. Best not be getting into any trouble.” She gives them a look that suggests she thinks they are the ‘all types’ she’s referring to. Thor does not help the assumption when he casts aside his cloak, revealing his sword. He leans it against the wall.

“Thank you, lady. I’m sure we’ll be very comfortable for the night.”

She hums and leaves them be.

“I think the roof is leaking,” Loki remarks, watching as a drop falls into a growing puddle on the floor.

Thor places a basin under the drip. “Problem solved,” He says brightly. Loki continues to glower at him. “Take off your clothes.”

Loki crosses his arms. “_What_ a seduction, brother. But I am decidedly _not_ in the mood.”

“I only meant,” Thor continues patiently. “That you are dripping water onto the floor. And if you’d like your clothes to dry by morning we should hang them from the rafters now.”

Loki blinks. “…oh.” They strip off their sodden clothes, draping them over the rafters. Loki uses a touch of magic to build the smoldering fire up to a roaring flame, pleasantly warming the room. Thor pulls the comforter from the bed and spreads it out next to the hearth. They sit together in silence, watching the fire.

“It is quite nice to be back inside, after weeks in the wilderness.”

“I would have thought you’d miss the stars, brother,” Loki says.

“At least we’ll sleep in a real bed tonight.”

“In this place, I’m not sure it’s going to be that much of an improvement over the ground.”

Thor chuckles and drapes an arm around Loki’s shoulders. “Perhaps not. But we are at least dry.” Loki hums.

They’re just drifting off to sleep when the neighboring door slams shut and the sound of murmuring voices comes through the walls.

“Lovely,” Loki spits, eyes still closed. The voices, one male and one female, speak for a few minutes before silencing. A minute or so afterwards comes a low moaning, a rhythmic drumming of a bed frame against a wall. “_Lovely_.”

“Sarcasm becomes you, brother. You were the one who wanted to get out of the rain. And neglected to notice that your suggested shelter was a brothel.”

“It was _weeks_ ago. I was hardly paying attention to such things.” The banging against the wall intensifies. “We’re going to be kept up all night by prostitutes earning their wages.” Loki lets his head fall back against Thor’s collarbone. The sounds from the neighboring room crescendos. There is a pause before someone moans again and it starts up again.

Thor is suddenly hyperaware of the press of their skins against each other. The beating of Loki’s heart against him. There’s a flush across his chest, high in his cheeks, the pink cutting across his pale skin. Thor’s cock swells, and there’s a tight ball of arousal in the pit of his stomach. His breath comes faster, the blood pulsing in his ear. There’s a particularly heady moan from the neighboring room and Thor cannot help but twitch.

Loki turns to him, an amused grin on his lips. “Comfortable?”

Thor growls, dropping his hand lower, to brush against Loki’s ribcage. He runs his thumb over the bones, over the taut muscles. “We’re already going to be up,” His says in Loki’s ear, nudging with his nose. “And we’re already unclothed.”

Loki twists in his arms, coming to straddle his lap. Thor is gratified to feel that Loki is also already aroused, insistently pressing their bodies together.

“It’s true, we’ve got little else to do. Not that we’ve been doing much else on this journey.” It was true. The original stated intent of their extended travels off-Asgard was ‘hunting.’ That’s what they’d told their parents and their friends when they left. But that was months ago now. And they’d been doing quite a bit more than hunting. “And besides,” Loki bends down to brush their lips together. “There is a special kind of magic that comes from a house full of sex.”

Thor just chuckles at Loki’s superstition. He tangles his fingers in Loki’s shining black hair and kisses him roughly.

\- - - - - - -

Neither of them remember how it all started, not exactly.

Youthful experimentation, at first. They occupied a rather unique position among their peers, after all. The pressure of their titles meant they could not afford to make fools of themselves with clumsy first kisses and awkward teenaged liaisons. People would whisper, and sneer behind their backs, and both princes were proud and vain.

At least, that was what they told themselves, when at night in one or the other’s beds they knelt before each other and pressed lips together. When they examined each other’s bodies, reassuring themselves there was no unseen oddity or deformity. That their sizes were not to either extreme.

Their first attempts were modeled after voyeuristic peeks at those older than themselves. Loki, even as a teenager, had a knack for knowing all things that transpired in the palace and surrounding areas. One day, he blushed a little at a passing maid and Thor had pressed him for answers.

“Well. You’ll just have to see.” Thor met him at midnight in the stables and they hid themselves in the straw. The maid snuck in not long after and perhaps fifteen minutes later her lover arrived. They had a brief, lighthearted conversation, and then he made quick work of her clothes. Their moans and cries floated up to the rafters.

As soon as they were gone, Thor let out a breath in a long whoosh and, shaking, scrambled to pull down his leggings, where his cock strained against the fabric.

Loki, his heart pounding in his chest, quickly brushed his hands away. “Let me…let me try…” His hands were not as sure and deft as they would later become, but Thor groaned the moment his fist closed around him. Loki copied what he saw others do and before very long at all Thor came, spend shooting out over the straw. His sweat soaked abdomen had contracted with his orgasm, and Loki reached out a hand, running his fingers down the newly hard muscle with a featherlight touch.

Thor was breathless and shivered at his touch. “Now you,” He said with a gruff intensity that makes Loki's head spin. He gasps

Loki could barely breathe as Thor roughly tugged down his leggings and took him in hand. It took no more than a dozen firm strokes before Loki was crying out, helplessly thrusting up into his brother’s hand.

It only really occurred to them the next night, as they lay side by side before the fire, that what they were doing might be considered _unnatural_.

“It’s not _that_ unnatural,” Loki whispered back. “I was reading in a book about the Vanir…”

“A _book_, Loki?”

“Yes. A _book_. A history book, if you must know. Though most of the realms are even more prudish than Asgard, it has been quite common among the Vanir for several centuries for siblings to have such relations.” He cleared his throat. “And it’s just…it’s just _practice_. Or would you prefer to make a fool of yourself the first time someone takes you to bed and then spreads rumors all over the Nine that the first prince of Asgard is-”

“Fine, fine. You’ve made your point. It’s just practice.” Thor smiled and ran a hand down the curve of Loki's spine, to rub his hand over the muscle of his ass. "Shall we practice again?"

Loki rolled over onto his back. Thor followed, pressing the lengths of their bodies together. He let his own heavy weight pin Loki to the carpet. He cupped his head, tangled his fingers in his dark hair and bent down to kiss him.

When they broke for air several minutes later, Loki's eyes were glassy with lust, his lips were swollen, and his cheeks scarlet. "Oh, I don't think you're doing so badly, brother," He gasped. "But perhaps," He licked his lips. "Just a bit more practice."

Drawing the line, between young, vain princes practicing the art of lovemaking and two young men inextricably entwined, became increasingly impossible as time passed.

It was truly, at first, just practice. Critiques of performance, tips, trying out things they’ve researched. All just practice.

Perhaps the line was drawn the first time when, after drawing one orgasm out of each other already, they continued through with no discussion of technique or critiques. And then when they lay together in the bed, sweaty and empty and exhausted, falling asleep. When Thor pressed a grateful, openmouthed kiss to Loki’s temple and whispered _I love you_.

That was not to say that they were exclusive for the years growing up and growing into their bodies. Once they abandoned the pretense that they were doing this for ‘practice’, they were equally free to seek out the attentions of others, confident in their abilities to please. It was just that they over time grew to prefer each other over others, understandable given how intimately they grew to know each others’ bodies.

Their outward relationship always seemed normal to them, but over time they began to notice how gossip spread. What they had feared came to pass, just not in the way that they had originally predicted.

One day, Thor surprised a group of servants whispering in the hall, who jumped and became suspiciously quiet at his entrance. None of them seemed to want to meet his eye.

“Is something amiss?” He asked them cordially.

“No, no, your highness, of course not,” One said quickly. But Thor caught their knowing glances out of the corner of his eye as he walked away.

Even their friends eventually could not hold back from commenting. It was one night when they were all drinking together in the backroom of a crowded tavern. Loki had returned to find his original seat taken by Fandral’s feet as he stretched out over two chairs. Instead of shoving Fandral’s boots off the chair as he could have done, he simply imperiously sat himself on Thor’s lap. Thor caught him instantly, arm wrapping around his waist.

“Ah,” Fandral said, leaning his head back. “Our dear prince has found his throne.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “And what do you mean by that?”

“I mean no offense, my prince,” Fandral drunkenly slurred. “None of us would deny you a seat on your proper throne: your brother’s lap!” The other’s laughed uproariously, and Loki’s cheeks turned scarlet.

Loki had remained in a sullen mood for the rest of the evening and left early. Thor slipped into his bedroom long afterwards. The room was dark, quiet, but Loki was not sleeping.

“Don’t be like that, brother,” Thor had said with a small chuckle. “You cannot say it is not true.”

“But does that mean I am bound to listen to Fandral’s drunken teasing?” Loki snapped. Thor soothed back his anger with his hands and mouth until he was, indeed, properly seated on the throne of Thor’s lap, quivering as he adjusted to the fullness inside him.

“Pay him no mind,” Thor whispered. “Pay none of them any mind.”

“They’ll still talk. Are we to stop touching in public now?”

“The rest don’t care, don’t notice. We’ve always been like that, there’s been no change. Besides,” Thor sat up, keeping his hands soothingly on Loki’s back. He pressed a kiss to Loki’s collarbone. “I don’t know that I can stop touching you in public.”

“Yes, and when even chaste touches in public are deemed inappropriate - ah!” Thor bit down on his collarbone at the same moment he thrust up. He softened his lips over the bite mark, sucking, until Loki was panting and flushed, unable to speak further.

“I don’t care,” He growled. He dragged his teeth across Loki’s skin. “I really don’t care.”

The rumors persisted, began to dog them. Their parents, blissfully, seemed to remain unaware, but others gossiped about every brushing touch, every time their eyes or hands meet, every time they disappeared off together and no one could immediately identify where they’d gotten to.

Eventually it became too much.

So they left.

An extended trip was not unusual for the princes - both had vanished into the Nine Realms for months at a time before, but it was usually alone or accompanied Sif and the Warriors Three. They had never been alone, together, off of Asgard, for such a long time. And they had not originally intended to be gone for so long. It was supposed to be two weeks, just a quick hunting trip. But instead of hunting they had spent the better part of their time enjoying the fact that no one was there to comment on their affectionate touches.

“We have had no quarry,” Loki had whispered, in their tent, the night before they were supposed to return. “And will have no results when we return to Asgard. They will deem us the most incompetent hunters in the Nine Realms.”

“Then we’ll have to extend the trip,” Thor responded. “To make sure we have something to bring back.”

That was months ago now. They had traveled, and, yes, sometimes hunted. They’d stayed in cities where no one knew who they were, explored cave systems and steppes, and finally, heard rumors of disappearances in a small village and turned back toward the mountains.

\- - - - - - -

Thor wakes in the morning to sunlight filtering through the ratty curtains on the window, in a tangled heap of limbs and sheets. Loki groans in protest when Thor nudges him awake.

“We shouldn’t tarry,” Thor whispers to him. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover if we do not want to extend our delay.” Loki groans again. Thor smiles fondly and tangles his fingers in his dark hair.

“We barely got to sleep last night, brother.” Loki presses further into the pillow. Thor’s hand dips down his back, tracing soft circles over his lower spine. Loki shivers. “I’m sure there will be whispers of us tonight.”

“We were not that loud,” Thor responds.

“But the walls are thin.” Loki presses closer. “And there are always rumors about us.” He kisses a line down the side of Thor’s jaw. “It’s why we left Asgard, after all.”

Thor sighs. “True enough.” Loki smiles and their conversation is lost in the lazy slide of their bodies together. They sleepily make love as the sun rises and the inn wakes up around them. There are footsteps in the hall, and the sounds of doors opening and closing, the smell of smoke from the wood fire filtering up into their room.

In the aftermath, Thor strokes back his brother’s hair. They’re both sweaty and panting, still not particularly interested in rising.

“We’ll have to go back eventually,” Loki groans. He raises his head from Thor’s chest to look him in the eye. “This quest, the next, we’ll eventually have to go home.”

“Midwinter. We said midwinter.”

“And the whispers will have grown. They’ll start to gossip about what we got up to on our little extended trip.”

“Well,” Thor says. “We’ll just have to bring back stories of our many feats of heroics to explain away our extended absence. Speaking of…”

Loki groans and drops his head back to Thor’s chest.

They rise and dress in their now dry clothes, and eat a quick breakfast in the tavern. The housekeeper gives them a scathing look, that makes Loki smile mischievously and wind his ankle around Thor’s under the table.

They request their horses be brought from the stable. The sky is a bright clear blue, no sign of the previous day’s storm, excepting some puddles and downed branches.

“Where are you two off too?” The innkeeper asks. He seems a bit friendlier than the night before, perched on a barrel outside the door and smoking a pipe. He eyes the massive sword strapped to Thor's back with wary appreciation.

“A village called Dorik. About a day’s ride away.”

He scoffs. “I wouldn’t go there, if I were you. I’d ride right in the other direction.”

“And why is that?” Loki asks.

“It’s not a very friendly place,” He says with a shrug. “More than that, they say that most strangers that go in don’t come back out.”

“We’ve heard of the disappearances,” Thor responds. “It is why we’re headed there.”

“Considering we’ve not heard anything spectacular about the scenery,” Loki remarks dryly.

“The disappearances are one thing. Yes, yes, all those rumors about them being beset by a curse. But what if the stories’re just a coverup for a dark stain on the town itself?” The princes exchange a look. “There’ve been rumors of murders, sacrifices…witches.” Loki turns his back and Thor can practically feel his eye roll. His lips twitch. “Perhaps the problem isn’t the curse, or creature, or whatever story they’ve concocted, but the town itself? Maybe they’re covering up for someone - or they’re all in on it together.”

"So you believe the townspeople are behind it? That they are a bunch of witches murdering travelers for...what? Riches? Fun?"

The innkeeper shrugs and takes another drag on his pipe. "I don't know much about witches. Can't begin to comment on their motives." Loki snorts in response.

The stableboy has brought their horses and waits patiently.

“Well,” Thor says as he fixes the saddlebags. “I doubt it’s anything we cannot handle.”

“That’s what the rest say,” The innkeeper says. “I tell you what, once you run into trouble with the townsfolk and admit defeat, you can come back here and have a night on me.”

“And why would you do that?” Loki asks as he swings into the saddle.

“I’m a nice guy. And I like it when I have powerful people in my debt.”

“And how do you know we have any power? We’re simple adventurers.”

The innkeeper laughs. “Simple adventurers don’t speak like they were raised in the palace itself. Your clothes and gear are dirty and worn, but well made. They’re not tearing or fraying. You,” The innkeeper nods at Loki. “Carry yourself like you’re used to getting your way.”

Loki’s eyebrow twitches. He turns to Thor. “Would you say I often get my way?”

“Constantly. It’s infuriating.”

“I don’t care what kind of nobles you are, what you’re hiding, running from,” The innkeeper shrugs. “Really don’t give a shit. Just as long as you come tell me when I’m right. I like hearing I’m right.”

“We’ll return to tell you we’ve solved the mystery,” Thor says.

“Broken the curse.”

“Defeated the monster. Or the witch.” Thor smiles brightly. “Whatever it may be.”

Loki bows his head. “Farewell.”

The innkeeper grunts and keeps smoking his pipe as the princes ride out towards the road.

Despite what Loki had said, the scenery is quite lovely when they’re not being beset by a thunderstorm. The mountains are jagged and spectacular in this region, the path tapering down to a narrow pass through the peaks.

“Imagine us attempting to navigate this in yesterday’s storm,” Loki remarks. “We would have plummeted to our deaths.”

Thor doesn’t want to admit that Loki was right, so he just shakes his head and rides on.

There’s a low cloud bank for the early part of the day, but it burns off quickly in the early afternoon heat. The mountainous pass descends into a thick and gnarled forest. They stop at a ledge overlooking it to eat.

“There,” Thor points. Thin streams of smoke rise in the distance. “That’s our destination.”

“I can understand why rumors of ghosts and magic spread,” Loki says from where he sits on a rock, eating an apple. “The tree canopy is thick. It’ll be dark on the path, confusing if you leave it. It would not be difficult to become lost, for your body not to be discovered once you’d starved to death.”

“Can you sense anything?”

Loki looks at the forest for another minute. “Nothing much. Some traces. Nothing that would explain the rumors.”

“Do you believe the innkeeper was right? That they are lying about what plagues them to cover up darker impulses?”

“That the town is full of a cult of witches making human sacrifices? No,” Loki scoffs. “I think it has been too long without answers. A village, desperately asking for help, but no one can figure out what’s going on, so eventually people become frustrated with the mystery and start to blame the victims. But I suppose we’ll find out either way when we arrive.”

“Another four hour ride, looks like.” Thor comes and settles on the rock next to his brother.

“Lovely.”

Thor just ignores Loki’s dour expression and kisses him sweetly on the cheek. “We might rest a while longer,” He says as he drops his hand lower, wrapping his arm around Loki’s waist and pulling their bodies flush.

“Oh?” Loki closes his eyes and rests his head back on Thor’s shoulder. “What did you have in mind?” With one hand, Thor pushes Loki’s tunic aside, undoes the buttons of his trousers to expose his cock.

“Just relax, brother,” He whispers in Loki’s ear. “You were complaining about being tired - I wouldn’t want you to overexert yourself.”

“Mmm,” Loki moans. His growing hard in Thor’s hand, under his smooth but steady pulls. “Oh!” He gasps. Thor steals a glance around them, to be sure they are alone, but there is no one else in sight. He buries his face against the side of Loki’s head and begins to stroke him firmly, smiling at the way Loki squirms against him. He wraps his other hand around his chest to steady him as his hips jerk, and he’s quickly pulled over the edge of orgasm to spill over the dusty ground.

Once he’s come down from the high - Thor easing him there with soft kisses to his hair - he reaches back to feel Thor’s erection where it bulges in his pants. He rubs it steadily with the heel of his hand. “I’m assuming you want help with this.” Thor hums in his ear. “Well. I shan’t give it to you.”

Thor makes a noise of protest. “Excuse me?”

“No,” Loki pulls himself out of Thor’s arms and lounges back against a rock. He hasn’t yet fixed his clothes, looking beautifully disheveled and debauched. “You said it yourself. I was feeling rather fatigued today. I cannot possibly be expected to exert any more energy.” His grin grows. “I wouldn’t mind watching though.”

Thor smiles. So this was Loki’s game. He adjusts his stance, settling himself on his knees, then pulls his trousers down around his knees and pushes his tunic up. He wastes no time with artistry, knowing Loki likes watching him jerk himself hard and fast.

“You’re terrible,” Loki breathes. “In full view, where anyone can see. For shame.” Thor swallows a moan. “I bet you do this all the time, when you think I can’t see you. Don’t you?”

Thor grunts. “Yes.” He slows his pace a bit to draw it out. “Of course. Even before we left Asgard, I would watch you.”

Loki’s breath quickens. His cock remains only half hard, and he simply leans back further and watches. “Hiding behind screens, behind pillars in the baths, pulling yourself off, you can’t even help it, can you, can’t help but touch yourself when you see me, what if I were to bar you from touching me ever again, it would hardly matter, would it, you would still be unable to control yourself, brute-” Thor spills with a grunt, hips stuttering into his hand. He drops back onto his heels, shivering.

“Oh,” He says breathily. “Brother, you are the absolute worst.”

“You love me,” Loki says with a smile.

“Silvertongued wretch,” Thor crawls across the ground to press himself into the lee of Loki’s thighs. He takes his face in his hands and kisses him.

They waste some minutes more lazily kissing, Thor running his hands over his brother’s body, with no real desire to do much more than that.

Thor breaks their kiss first, nudges Loki’s nose with his own. “We should go.”

“Yes, we’re quite exposed here, in the open. What will we do if someone comes upon us? The scandal…” Loki smirks.

Thor stands, gripping Loki’s hands to draw him up as well. “I was watching out.”

“So was I. I can’t say I was not…rather distracted, however.” They fix their clothes and pack up their things. Loki kicks dirt over the evidence of their activities and sighs. “Four hours?”

Thor looks at the horizon. “Seems like it. Come. The sooner we begin…”

As they set off down the path, their forms are quickly swallowed by the shadows of the forest. A figure steps out from behind a tree. Neither had seen or sensed her following them, just as she wanted. She had followed them all the way from the inn, remaining just far away enough to avoid detection.

She smiles and turns east.


	2. chimney smoke and the overgrown path

They arrive at the village in late afternoon.

Loki had been right about the quality of the forest. Once they entered the forest, the daylight had dimmed, filtered by the thick canopy of leaves. They kept to the path, riding close together. There were distant sounds of animal life, rustles when the wind passed through the trees, but nothing too out of the ordinary. The forest does feel strange, but Thor supposes that Loki was right - it was just the thickness of the canopy, the sudden darkness on the path, and the close air that made the atmosphere feel so eerie.

He questioned Loki, but his brother shook his head. “I still sense no magic, or malice in the air. Nothing.”

“The disappearances were concentrated a little further east.”

Loki pursed his lips, brow furrowing in concentration. “I feel nothing, not at this distance.”

“We’ll keep to the original path, then. To the village first, question the people, then we’ll see what we can find in the east.”

“Yes.” Loki conjured a faint green witchlight to illuminate their way, to take some of the creeping darkness away.

As they approached the gates, Loki banished his light. They are uncertain of the welcome they will receive, of whether this village is suspicious of magic. They would stand to be, given their struggles with the disappearances, and they don’t want to take any chances.

The village is surrounded by high wooden walls, broken by a watchtower in the center, sat above the wide main gates. They approach the gate, and two guards descend from the tower to greet them.

“Greetings, travelers,” One says with a note of surprise. “Welcome.”

Thor inclines his head. “Good afternoon.”

“We don’t get many visitors here,” The guard says. “Not many make the long trip through the forest. Especially not ones coming all the way from Asgard.” Thor and Loki exchange startled looks. “I apologize for the assumption. The style of your saddles appears Asgardian - am I wrong?”

“You are not,” Thor answers. “I was merely surprised you recognized it. Not too many have on our travels.”

“Aye, in my youth I trained with the Asgardian infantry, before I returned home to take up my post. And what are two Asgardians doing so far into our forest?”

“We have been on an extended hunting trip,” Thor answers. “And-”

“Are you here about the disappearances?” The other, younger guard says quickly. The elder gives him a sharp look.

“We are,” Loki says smoothly. “We have heard the rumors, and understand that no one has been able to determine a cause.”

“No,” The elder says. “I suppose not. What business is it of Asgard?”

“None of Asgard,” Thor says quickly. “We were merely passing by.”

“We heard of your distress,” Loki continues. “We thought we would offer our services. Fresh eyes, as it were.”

The elder guard’s welcoming smile has dropped off his face. The younger is looking at them with nervousness in his eyes.

“Well,” The elder guard finally says. He draws back the bolt on the gate. “I doubt you will make any progress. No one comes out that goes into the eastern wood. We do not go in.”

“We’ll try our hand,” Loki says. “Can’t hurt, can it?”

“Suppose not,” He says. “The inn is two blocks to the east of the fountain. If you hit the tannery you’ve gone too far.”

“I thank you,” Thor says. “We will help as much we can.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” The guard growls and lets them enter the village.

Once they’re out of earshot, Thor sighs. “That went well.”

“Concerning,” Loki responds. “I really would prefer not to have to return to our innkeeper friend with news that he was right.”

“It could have been insult,” Thor says. “He could have felt his pride wounded by Asgardians assuming we can solve the mystery when they have not been able to.”

“True. It could have been frustration. They might also be annoyed that what they’ve become known for is a series of mysterious disappearances. Maybe he was excited that they’ve got visitors, disappointed when he figured out that it was just because we were investigating the mystery.”

Thor grunts. “Or he was just rude.”

Loki smiles. “Or he was just rude.”

Helpful though, his directions to the inn are easy to follow. They ride through the packed dirt roads. The town, despite the sordid nature of their trip here, seems typical enough. They pass shops of handmade goods and neatly decorated homes with small gardens. From the center of the town they can see the cleared farmlands to the south, bordered by the dense forest. Loki pauses on the fountain. It is a solid piece of architecture, the layers allowing for cascading waterfalls down into the main basin. There are sculptures of sea creatures, fish and squids, and human figures with fishing nets, all hewn out of stone.

“Impressive work, for such a small town,” Loki remarks as they pass it. The water seems to shimmer in the light; probably a heavy concentration of some mineral.

They find the inn and leave their horses in the attached stables. It is late in the day now, the light fading as the sun sets. They agree to settle in for the night, see what information they can gather in the inn, and then explore the town in the morning.

In the inn, they are met with a sudden awkward silence from the villagers drinking in the tavern. After a moment everyone goes back to their drinks and leave them to check in at the desk.

As evening falls, they go to the tavern and eat a warm meal and drink heavily spiced ale that the tavern keeper says is a specialty of his. Gradually the villagers grow accustomed to their presence and the awkward tension in the air dissipates.

Thor makes conversation with a group of hunters; they all laugh at an amusing tale that he spins well.

Loki takes advantage of the relaxed atmosphere to approach and politely question an older woman sewing in the corner. He asks her about the general quality of the town, once she invited him to sit.

“It’s been a lovely place to live,” She tells him. “Off and on. We have our problems, like everyone.”

“And the disappearances?”

She sighs. “Yes. A blight. But we warn them. I told that Johan - what an ass - that he would only meet disaster if he went into the eastern woods.”

Loki’s lips twitch in amusement. “Johan was the last to vanish?”

She nods. “He was an arrogant bastard, if you excuse my language. No better than his father. His _grandfather_, now he was a good man. He built up a life, a reputation in this village, but then his son squandered it. No good. He took to the drink, and gambling, and ran off to the city to die in the street. Found a pretty woman to have a couple of his children before he did. Johan wasn’t a drunk, not yet at least, but he was a right ass when he came back to town. Didn’t share what he got, didn’t take part in the community. Thought he was too good for us. We all told him not to go into the woods, but he wouldn’t hear it. Thought he was different. Special. Well. One day turned to two, turned to four, turned to a month. Eaten by the forest just like the rest of them. Fool.” She’s distracted then, by a young woman who asks for advice about repairing a skirt. Loki thanks her and returns to his brother.

“Have you learned anything?” Loki asks.

Thor just shakes his head. “A bit. Nothing too insightful.”

“I didn’t learn much either. Just that they did seem to have a grudge against the last man who disappeared. Thought he was a bit arrogant. ‘An ass,’ was the exact quote.”

“Those hunters mentioned two earlier disappearances briefly - they were mournful. Considered them friends, even if they were outsiders. I’m not sure suspecting the villagers is the right path.”

“I want that innkeeper to be wrong as much as you,” Loki says. “But perhaps it is only a small collection of them? A minor conspiracy?”

Thor shakes his head. “It seems as though they’re going out of their own accord, at least. It seems like it’s-”

A man with graying hair and a heavy cloak plops down across from them.

“I hear you’ve been asking questions.”

“Yes,” Loki says, a defensive note in his voice. “We were quite plain with our intentions at the front gate.”

“I’m the Captain of the watch,” He says. “Erich.”

“And you are here to warn us off investigating?”

He looks between them, gaze narrowed and suspicious. “No, it doesn’t seem like that would do any good, not with how far you’ve come. Don’t seem like the types to be deterred.”

“You’re right,” Thor says with a wild smile. “We are not.”

“Hm. I can’t say I’m pleased about it, but I will answer your questions.”

“How many disappearances have you investigated?”

“Seven, since I became captain. More in some years, less in others. We’ve gotten a lot of,” He looks them up and down. “Tourists over the years, who think they’re up to the task of hunting in those woods. They’re wrong.”

Thor does not comment on the ‘tourist’ accusation, but continues to question him instead. “Could there be any other reason? Any grudges, patterns? Anyone who seems to slip away and reappear at the right time?”

“Do you mean do we have any suspects? You’re like the ones who think it’s our doing?”

“Actually, we’ve got a vested interest in proving you’re _not_ involved. Pride mostly, but still,” Loki says. Thor grins.

Erich looks between them. “We have no suspects. There’s nothing that connects the victims. And no one acting suspicious in the village. We’re a tight-knit community here. We’d know.”

Loki feels uneasy. There seems to be quite a bit of hostility towards solving the mystery here, and that can mean nothing good. “What about magic? Any legends of curses, prophecies?”

Captain Erich scoffs. “I doubt it's a curse.”

Loki bristles. “Well, have you had a sorcerer-”

“Heh. Charlatans. But yes, foolish, superstitious villagers make up all kinds of stories of curses. We’ve had witches and sorcerers and mages come, swearing they can break the curse, break whatever enchantments are on the woods. None of them ever come back either. Look,” He says. “Have your fun. Ask your questions, and then be on your way. If you’re stupid enough to travel into the woods, that’s your problem. None of us will lift a finger to help you. We do not go into the woods. We cannot explain why, but we are not so stupid to test it. And we won’t risk any of our own lives to save you. Not our problem if you’re never heard from again.”

“How altruistic,” Loki says and looks away.

“You go out through the eastern gates, and they’re barred to you. Locked behind you. Understand?” They say nothing in response to that. Erich takes a long drink from his flagon and without another word leaves them at the table. He goes to sit by the fire, with several other grim-faced and gruff men, and turns his back to them.

“Well,” Loki says brightly. “How heartening.” Thor is studying him very intently. “What?”

“Are we sure about this?” He says quietly. Under the table his hand drops to Loki’s knee. “Perhaps-”

“Your bravery failing you, brother? I’m shocked. I’d never imagined a day when you’d turn away from a challenge.”

“My bravery is _not-_” Thor stops himself, setting his jaw. “This is more than a challenge.”

“Is it? Come on, Thor, it’s nothing we can’t handle. Here’s what I think: it’s got to be some kind of magic. Maybe something inherent to the woods, maybe the remnants of some great working, whatever it is, I can feel traces of it.”

“Can you? In the forest, you said-”

“It wasn’t there in the forest, I believe we were too far away. I can sense something now. It’s barely there, but there’s an energy coming out of the east that’s not present in the northern forest we passed through, or the fields to the south and west. I can’t quite tell what it is, but I should be able to figure it out with a little more concentration. If we get a little closer.”

“And if that’s walking straight into the path of whatever this is?”

“Thor, you’re being ridiculous.”

Thor squeezes his knee under the table. “I am not being ridiculous."

"You just do not like puzzles. They vex you. I'm sure you wouldn't like this if we were riding out to go to battle against some beast or great foe."

"I am merely concerned. About you.”

“Thor.” Loki meets his gaze for a long moment, then caves and looks away. “It will be fine. You’re just put off by how grim everyone’s acting and how tangled their stories. They’ve been dealing with this for decades, you have to forgive them their dour moods. But whatever this is,” He drops his voice even lower, that excited look of intrigue back in his eyes. “It hasn’t come up against two princes of Asgard, has it?”

Thor cracks a smile. “I suppose you’re right.”

“See? I’m sure we’ll figure it out just as soon as we get a closer look. And then we can go slay a dragon if you’d prefer.”

“Loki, that is not-”

“So you’re just being silly and overprotective?”

“I…not _exactly_. But perhaps-”

“If you’re about to suggest that I turn back-”

“Perhaps we do not have to venture out into the woods.” He squeezes Loki’s knee. “I want to solve the puzzle as much as you do, but I will not unnecessarily risk your life.”

“You’re being sentimental.”

“Perhaps.”

Loki just sighs. Under the table, he rests his hand on Thor’s. “Yes, I even agree with that captain - the sorcerers who investigated before were likely charlatans. They didn’t know what they were up against.”

“Neither do we.”

“But we’re not charlatans. Come, Thor. You know if we leave without fully investigating it will drive you mad. At least, it will drive me mad, and I know you don’t want that.”

Thor gives him a small smile and a chaste kiss to the cheek. “I just want to protect you.”

“Sentimental fool.”

Thor squeezes his knee again. “Let’s go to bed.”

They finish their drinks and head towards their room. On their way, Thor stops at the captain’s table.

“So if you’re so sure it is not a curse, or a murderer, what do you think it is?”

The captain looks up at him. His eyes are drooping. He’s rather drunk. “I don’t know,” He slurs, looking haunted. “But I don’t think I want to find out.”

Unlike the night before, they are given a room with two narrow beds, each pushed against opposite walls. Loki sits crosslegged on one, closing his eyes and systematically searching the village for traces of dark magic. Thor quietly readies for bed, trying not to distract him. After half an hour or so, Loki opens his eyes.

“Anything?”

“Not much. Not more than before.” He rises and starts readying himself for bed. He strips off his leathers, leaving just his underthings, and begins to tie back his hair. “A few minor traces of spells clinging to stone, none of it seemed particularly nefarious. Well, one love spell, those are rather unethical, but not what we're searching for.”

“And the forest?”

Loki sighs. “I did not delve deep. It does feel strange, but I could not feel much. You’d think that the deaths and disappearances would make the magic feel stronger…darker…but perhaps from inside the village…” Loki trails off, lost in thought. Thor clears his throat. “In any case, we’ll get to work tomorrow.”

“Good.”

Loki washes his face in the basin and, naturally, ignores his own bed and crawls into Thor’s. Thor lowers the lamp to a faint flickering glow.

“They seem to dislike us even more here than they did at the brothel,” Loki whispers. His leg slots in between Thor’s.

Thor grunts. “And the walls seem thinner,” He says with a suggestive raise of an eyebrow.

“I’ll just have to be very, _very_ quiet,” Loki whispers back. He kisses the closest bit of skin he can, a bit of Thor’s shoulder. His light fingers trace up Thor’s bare chest.

“_Can_ you be quiet? I wasn’t aware-” He teases.

“Come, Thor, don’t you want to? We might be going to our deaths, after all, I’ve heard that makes for great sex-”

“That is not funny, brother.”

Loki just laughs and kisses him again, moving to his throat this time, with an apologetic hum. He bites lightly, sucks on the skin. Thor grips his chin, tilts his face up to capture his lips. On the narrow bed, he rolls them until he’s pressing Loki back, holding him down with his body weight. Like this, the difference in their sizes - while not vast - is made more apparent. Loki smiles up at him.

“I love you,” Thor whispers. “I love you more than anything in the world, more than my own life-”

“You’re being so _insufferably_ fond tonight.”

Thor kisses the tip of his nose. “We might be going to our deaths, you said. So I’m going to do what I want to you and if that is being insufferably fond-”

Loki groans, but a pleased flush is rising in his cheeks. Thor sits up for a moment to pull off Loki’s shirt, then works to kiss the flush redder in his chest.

As they careen towards climax, Thor has to press a hand hard against Loki’s mouth, muffling the helpless little cries and moans that would only draw attention to them. “Sh sh sh,” He whispers as he pounds him into the thin mattress. “Hush now.” Loki’s hands scrabble at his back as he throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut. “Hush.” Loki’s breath is unsteady. The way he grabs at Thor, leans his body towards him, proves that it is more than approaching orgasm. Thor rubs soothingly down Loki’s thigh, his other hand steadily working over his cock. “You’re mine, I have you, I’ll protect you.” With a strangled cry, Loki’s hips stutter and he comes, spilling over both their abdomens. Thor makes it three more thrusts before there is a roaring in his ears and he spends, helplessly thrusting harder, deeper, fucking his seed deeper.

Feeling returns and he gentles down Loki’s legs, slipping out and letting him fall to the side. He lays down at Loki’s back, holding him tight as they both try to catch their breaths.

“How was ‘we’re going into our deaths’ sex?” Thor whispers in his ear.

Loki laughs, the vibrations of it echoing in Thor’s chest, his eyes still closed. “Oh, I think it was fine.”

“I think it was more than fine.”He absently runs his hands over Loki’s abdomen, his chest, holding them close together. Loki wraps his arms tighter, burying his face in Thor's hair. The heady rush of orgasm had pushed down Thor’s fears and doubts. Of _course_ he could defeat this monster. He was a prince, he was a god. Nothing could touch him. Nothing could touch them. Of course not. Loki was right - he was being absolutely foolish. Insufferably fond, only suddenly afraid of their foe because he was afraid of the strength of his love.

He kisses Loki’s cheek roughly. Loki’s already drifting to sleep and Thor follows quick behind.

In the morning they clean themselves up and ready their packs.

“We split up,” Thor says. “Question as many who will talk to us. And we meet back here at midday to decide our next move.”

“Doubts again, brother? I thought we got rid of those last night.”

Thor kisses his cheek. “I fully expect we will venture into the forest this afternoon, of course. But things may yet change.”

Loki gives him a skeptical look. “Of course, brother.”

They return at midday. Loki looks as frustrated as Thor feels.

“I got nothing more than vague warnings,” Loki says. “Superstitions.”

“I got naught more. Some speculation, but none of their stories matched each other. Wolves, the elements, a monster. No one had more than theories.”

“I found what this village passes for a hedge witch,” Loki tells him. “She was particularly insistent that we avoid going into the forest. She said we’d be going to our own doom, but when I pressed her for details she could not give more. Or would not. Ran into our captain friend as well - well, he ran away from me as soon as he saw me, glowering all the way.”

“Yes, most people did not even wish to speak to me. Not the friendliest bunch.” Thor glances at the people passing by the front of the inn. They cast suspicious looks in their direction, hurrying past as if they will be accosted if they linger too long. “The innkeeper was right about that at least.”

“Hm. They don’t want to answer questions. It’s certainly suspicious.”

“Not damning yet.” Thor claps his hands once. “So. We take to the forest.”

Loki smiles. “We take to the forest.”

They eat a quick lunch in the tavern, then they gather their horses and ride out towards the eastern gate. Two old women on the way eye them with deep scowls. When they draw even, the women spit into their path and make a gesture, then turn their backs.

Thor gives Loki a questioning look but he shakes his head. “Superstition. No spellcraft involved.”

As they ride out of the eastern gate, they honestly feel relief. The village had been a tense environment and they felt flayed open by the stares of the people. The forest, though eerie in its darkness and silence, is a relief compared to the grim village. Even as the gate ominously slams shut behind them.

They travel carefully through the forest, sticking to the overgrown game trail that leads them deeper into the forest. A few hours into the journey, the trail opens out into a wider path, though it is still poorly maintained. Thor drops off his horse and stays low to the ground, to look for traces of the missing hunters.

“They definitely made it this far,” Thor brushes aside a bush to reveal the remains of a meal. A few meters later, he finds an abandoned campsite, the remains of a fire. “Can you sense anything?”

“Nothing specific.” Loki frowns. “I do not think we should camp here, but we should stay for a few minutes. I want to try tracing the magic again.”

Thor takes the reins of both their horses, so that Loki can kneel in the center of the campsite and use his magic to search the terrain. He is still for a long time, his green seidr seeping into the dirt. Thor watches him carefully, curiously. Magic is often far beyond Thor’s understanding, his brother’s style of seidr alien to his own storm-power. He will admit to sometimes being dismissive of its use in battle, but is fascinated by its use in situations such as these.

Loki opens his eyes with a gasp. The green light returns to his core. He sits for another moment, catching his breath.

“Are you all right?” Thor asks with some alarm.

“Fine,” He says breathily. “I could not find anything distinct, _still_,” He spits out in frustration. “Some vague impressions of fear, of darkness. But nothing _clear_.”

“And we still have seen no evidence yet of any sort of beast hunting them,” Thor takes a deep breath. “The mystery deepens.” He offers Loki a hand up, letting him steady himself against him for a moment.

Loki is very pale, looking unnerved. “It does. I have no idea what is going on in this forest.”

They continue their journey a bit farther, until they come across a second clearing wide enough to set up camp. They tie up their horses and pitch their tent and start a fire to cook dinner.

“It’s very quiet,” Loki remarks. “That’s…disturbing.”

“There are some noises of birds. Not as much as I’d expect for a canopy this thick. Very odd.”

The sun sets. They leave the campfire smoldering and crawl into their tent. Loki is still tense and Thor’s instinct is to smooth it away, first with his hands, then his mouth. Before long they’ve stripped off their clothes and fallen into each others’ arms.

Loki is in his lap, they’re rocking together, their moans echoing in the clearing. Loki’s deft hand strokes their cocks together, his slow and steady pace maddening. Thor is biting at Loki’s collarbone, alternating between little nips and soft kisses. Thor eases his way inside. The tent is already growing stuffy with the heat of their bodies, and they’re both sweating, panting.

Then Loki freezes. Thor looks up in time to catch the odd look on his face. “What is it?” He asks, suddenly alarmed. “Have I hurt you?”

Loki turns his attention back, gaze a little distant. “What? What did you say”

Thor is careful not to move. He runs his hands soothingly down Loki’s sides, stroking the muscle where he quivers. He presses a kiss to his collarbone. “Is something wrong?”

“I thought I heard something…” Loki’s brow furrows. “Are you sure you didn’t hear it?” They are silent for a minute, each holding their breath, in the silence.

“I hear nothing,” Thor finally says.

“It was there, but then…” Loki looks almost frightened.

“It’s all right, brother,” Thor whispers softly. He runs his hands over his back. “You’re all right.”

“Yes, yes," Loki breathes. His brow is knitted together though and he's biting the edge of his lip. "You’re right. It’s fine.” He turns his attention back to Thor, pressing down and resuming his rhythm, but his distraction is clear. Despite how maddeningly good it feels, Thor grips his hips and pushes to stop him.

“We can-”

“No, no, it’s all right,” Loki breathes. He will not raise his voice above a whisper. “I’ll keep going.”

“What do you want?” Thor wraps his arms around Loki’s back. “Hey. Look at me.” Loki looks back. “What do you want to do?”

Loki hesitates another moment before nodding. “We should stop,” He whispers. “I…I’d like to be dressed, in case...I should…”

“All right.” Thor slides out from under him and dries his cock with a wince. He helps Loki gather their clothes from where they scattered them in their undressing. When they’re dressed, they lie side by side, facing each other. Loki still has a cloud across his features, a look of concerned distraction.

“What do you hear?”

“I don’t know. It might have been…it’s nothing.” Loki entwines their fingers together. “It’s fine. I set up my wards, they hold fine. It was probably nothing,” He says with a little laugh. "Apologies."

Thor waves off his apology. “I heard nothing. But do tell me if you hear anything else. You sense nothing?” Loki shakes his head. He presses closer and Thor tucks him securely against his chest. “Nothing we can’t defeat, right?”

“Of course not,” Loki says as they drift to sleep. But now he is the one who sounds uncertain.

In the morning, Loki wakes still safely wrapped in his brother’s arms. The light outside their tent is bright, even filtered through the leaves. It must be late morning, but he allows himself another few innocent moments of feeling safe, and warm, listening to Thor snore faintly. Then he nudges his brother awake.

“We slept late,” He says in a whisper. “We should go.”

The forest feels almost normal in the morning sunlight. The sounds of nature are back to normal, the air is clearer. Their horses are calm, still tied where they left them the night before. Loki feels almost foolish for his dramatics. But he had been certain, absolutely certain, that he had heard a scream.

“Can you hear anything now?” Thor asks as they pack up the tent.

“Nothing. I did not believe I was imagining things.” He laughs. “But perhaps I was.”

Thor shrugs. “This place is very strange.”

“We didn’t think it would be easy, did we?” Loki gives Thor a small smile.

Thor kisses his cheek. “Can you finish up? I have to piss.”

“Of course.” Thor goes into the trees as Loki bends down to continue gathering up their tent.

He thinks nothing of it for a moment, rolling the fabric into a ball and stuffing it back into the sack. He fastens the pack to Thor’s horse, makes sure it is securely bound-

Then a shiver travels up his spine. A sudden bout of dizziness, nausea. He shuts his eyes, tries to breathe evenly for a moment.

“Thor?” He calls when the spell passes. The forest is dead silent again. He cannot hear his brother, who should not have strayed far into the brush. “Thor?!” His voice breaks. He turns in a slow circle, reaching out with magic, only to sense nothing. “Thor, you _bastard_, answer me!” Nothing. “This isn’t funny!”

His heart beats faster. He starts towards where Thor disappeared into the trees.

Then a sound from the opposite direction. A shout, in an unmistakable voice. The breath catches in Loki’s throat. “Thor!”

The shout again, this time morphing into a pained cry. Loki’s heart is in his throat. Thor stepped into the trees to the west, and now his screams are echoing from the east.

“Loki!” Thor's voice cries, sounding further distant from the first scream. A creature, it must be, some creature has taken him and is moving further away by the second. He grabs the reins of his horse, bounding up into the saddle and taking off in the direction of the sound of his brother’s screams.

Panic and fury fuel his desperate flight through the forest. He can hear Thor still calling out for him, the sound of his voice growing closer, then farther away. Whatever has him is moving fast, but taking breaks. If he just keeps going, he can catch up, defeat the beast, get his brother back-

The trees suddenly part, the forest opening out onto a large lake. Loki pulls back on the reins just in time, slowing his horse’s desperate gallop before they go barreling into the water. They are both out of breath. Loki pats her neck soothingly as he catches his own breath, desperately searching for any sign of his brother.

There is nothing. The surface of the lake is smooth and calm. All is silent. There is no more sounds of Thor’s screams, of his crying out. Loki doesn’t want to consider what that could possibly mean.

“Thor!” He calls and it echoes across the lake. Panicked tears spring to his eyes. “_Damn_.”

Loki turns away from the surface of the lake, kicking his horse back into a canter to search around the lake.

Something moves too fast to be tracked by the eye. One second, Loki is riding forward; the next, blood is spurting from a massive, jagged gash in his horse’s throat. The horse’s forelegs buckle. Loki is thrown from her back as she thrashes, dying. He hits the ground hard, the pain and shock of it jolting up his spine, then his vision goes black, consciousness fades, and he knows nothing else.

Thor walks into the forest, just outside of the clearing, turns his back to relieve himself against a tree. It couldn’t have been more than a minute since he left his brother when he hears something crashing through the trees.

He curses, doing the buttons on his pants back up. “Loki!” He turns and sprints towards the clearing.

Loki is no where to be found. His horse is gone. The rest of the camp has not been touched. His horse remains, though she is clearly startled. There is no blood on the ground, no evidence of anyone else having been there.

Loki is just gone.

Thor should not have taken his eyes off of him. He should not have allowed them to be parted for even a moment. Now Loki was gone - his younger brother, who he was supposed to protect. Thor had stepped out of sight for a moment, and now they were in more danger than ever.

He had foolishly let down his guard when he set aside his doubts, and now he has no idea what to do.


	3. cold water and three riddles

Loki cannot move. He cannot open his eyes. A pain pulses in his skull. His stomach flips. He smells the bitter tang of blood in the air and recalls the death of his horse with regret. Without opening his eyes, he slowly takes stock of where he is and what he remembers.

He had been by a lake, when he had been thrown from his horse, blood splattering out over him as _something_ struck to slit the horse’s throat. He had fallen, his body had hit the earth - and that is all he can recall. He lays flat on hard stone now, not sand, and the air feels too still and close to be outside.

Slowly, the pain in his head recedes, fading to a dull throb. Eventually, he finds he can open his eyes, turn gingerly onto his side. There is another person, blurred, with long hair, seated. Watching him.

“Where am I?” He manages to say. Croak, more like.

“Our castle,” A female voice answers.

“And who are you?” His vision is focusing. When he’s sure he’s not going to vomit, he sits up.

The woman comes into further focus. “I am Walla.”

“And I am Hasso.” Loki jumps at the voice from behind him. He had not realized anyone else was in the room. Now that he was aware though, he can feel the power rolling off the sorcerer. He manages to turn towards the voice, and finds a tall, slender man sitting on a dais. The sorcerer - Hasso - smiles at him. “Welcome.”

“Are we still in the forest? Of course we are.” Loki slowly gets to his feet, praying his knees won’t buckle. He tries to affect an easy, haughty confidence as he recovers himself. “I can feel the enchantments now. I’m assuming you are the one responsible for the disappearances from the village?”

“Yes and no,” Hasso answers. “They disappear themselves, when they refuse to listen to warnings and wander off into the woods.”

“But you seal their fate, don’t you? Ah, I feel it, there. So you take their souls - and what do you do with the bodies?”

“You’re quite clever. The bodies go into the lake. The villagers believed the lake was haunted, or else the dwelling of a monster, long before I showed up. They believed that making sacrifices to the water would protect them from bad luck and the wrath of the monsters. The proudest and most foolish among them - those that ignore warnings, anger their neighbors - are gradually pushed out of the village. Long ago, they _did_ merely get lost in the confusing wilderness. The underbrush is scattered with their bones. But then we came and fit right into their stories. It was terribly convenient.”

“So they leave you alone. Interesting. And you subsist on a diet of souls, I imagine?” Loki goes to the wall and runs his hand along in. “Fuel your power and your illusions? This isn’t real. None of it is, you’re just feeding the enchantments with the spirits of those you take. I’m guessing you occasionally aid the village as well? So that they will not look to closely into things. ” He tries to make it look like he’s merely touching the wall out of curiosity, rather than that it is holding him up. “May I ask why?”

“You may ask. There is no answer. Am I not permitted a home?”

“A home, yes. To consume mortal souls to fuel your magic - no. I’m afraid we cannot let that stand. I’m guessing you were once a moderately powerful sorcerer, of an order…maybe from the outskirts of Alfheim, judging by the style of stitches on your cloak and the brand of illusions. Passed over for promotion? Kicked out for dark magic?”

Hasso laughs. “Or perhaps a little of both.”

“Ah, of course. Couldn’t stand that you weren’t powerful enough to join the court or find a position in the universities, so you started dabbling in dark magic and were cast out. How long ago was that?”

“Centuries,” Hasso responds. The girl - Walla - laughs.

“The souls keep you young. I’m assuming you’ve been traveling since then. Picked up your lovely little assistant along the way?”

“Picked me up on the shores of the great sea,” She says, twirling her hair around a long finger. “I’d gotten bored there.”

“Yes. A siren. Of course. You were bored of luring sailors and fishermen to their deaths, thought you’d try your luck at land-based torments?”

“It’s been a delightful change of pace.”

“But the disappearances started in earnest fairly recently,” Loki brushes his hair back, scowling at the horse blood covering his hands, his clothes. “So you came here then, and started to imagine yourself some kind of lord.”

“Am I not? I hold sway over this castle, the villagers pay fealty to me-”

“By allowing the hated of their society, outsiders, and those too stupid to heed warnings to wander into your clutches? Well, it seems your subjects are not as loyal as you thought. They grow discontented at your tolls, my _lord_. And I’m afraid word of your activities has gotten out. It will not be long before you are defeated.”

“Oh, I’m sure before then I will have thought of a plan.”

“You’ll need far more power to counter that which will come for you.”

“And I think I’ll have more power.”

Loki smiles. “Me, you imagine? You’ve sensed my magic like I’ve sensed yours. You’re keeping me alive for some reason…hoping I’ll give you my magic willfully? That’s the only way you can use it properly. You _could_ just kill me, use my power to keep fueling your little estate,” Loki waves a hand at the illusionary castle. “Very impressive, by the way. But you can’t use my magic _truly_ unless I am alive and bind it to you willingly. I should warn you - I’ll not give in that easily.”

“Will you not?”

Loki studies him for a moment. “You haven’t asked me who I am yet. Which means…either you truly do not care who I am, or…you already know.”

Hasso stands and sweeps into a bow. “Your highness.”

Loki keeps his spine very straight. “If you already know who I am, you’ll know that what you’re planning is utter folly. You would bring the full weight of Asgard down upon you? Fool. No matter how good your illusions are, how strong the souls of the dead have made you, you are still a second-rate sorcerer from a backwater realm, Asgard will crush you in a moment-”

“Does Asgard know where you are?” Hasso exchanges a mockingly concerned look with Walla. “That’s funny, it does seem that Asgard has misplaced its princes.”

Loki goes very still, barely daring to breathe. “Yes. Asgard knows where I am, Asgard will-”

“You may be the god of lies, your highness, but even you cannot lie about this. Asgard has no idea where you are and will not, not until I appear, wielding your own magic against them. We’ve been watching you.” Hasso’s smile widens. “For quite a while, now. Since word came that you had turned from your hunting and towards our peaceful little sanctuary. Since the inn.”

Loki’s heart starts to beat faster. He is suddenly uncertain. Walla opens her mouth and from it comes the raucous sounds of a tavern, then the sounds of lovemaking.

“I snuck in,” She says. “The prostitute whose room neighbored yours, her last three clients of the night didn’t show. Well, they’re dead at the bottom of a ditch so can’t really blame them. She was annoyed at first, at the lost income, but I bought her a drink and paid the men’s promised sum. Told her I had just come into an inheritance and wanted to spread the wealth. She thanked me heartily. Didn’t notice me taking the keys to her room. Guess she went home after the drink, never came back. So I was able to hear _everything_.”

Loki sets his jaw. “So you imagined-”

“I’m not sure she needed to do much imagining. Sounded pretty explicit.” Hasso shakes his head, raising his eyebrows in mock condemnation. “My, my. What a shocking revelation. The realms would be rocked with it. I am tempted to just tell everyone, watch the fallout. That would be entertaining, but alas, it wouldn’t gain me any real power.”

“So that’s it? You think to blackmail me with my perversity?” Loki gives a choked laugh. “Why would they believe you? A vile, disgraced sorcerer. You think our parents would take your word over ours? There are a thousand different stories I could spin to counter your tales.” He twists his face into a pained, miserable expression, letting tears form in his eyes. “Something in our drinks…we woke with no memories…he drugged us, raped us.” The quivering quality of his voice drops away. “It would be easy. We’re _princes_. You’re nothing.”

“Please. Don’t take me for a complete fool. You’re right. Blackmail would indeed be too easy to thwart. I’m not about to take my chances, not when I have this much power in my grasp. Come sit, your highness, you must be weary.”

“I think I will remain standing, thanks.” Loki stays by the wall, a good seven feet from Hasso. He is beginning to feel more himself. The headache is fading. His vision is clear. He feels stronger on his feet and his seidr’s strength is returning after being muffled by his injuries and the period of unconsciousness. He will end this soon, and Thor will come find him and finish off this wretch and then they’ll ride out, return to Asgard, and everything will be _fine_.

“I’ll tell you my plan, your highness.” Hasso nods to Walla and she rises, slipping past Loki down the stairs. “Not blackmail, no. Though that would have been fun. No, your brother is on his way here. I’m going to use you to get him to give me his magic. Now, it’s not as refined as yours, but it will be the perfect boost. He’ll bind himself to me, to my will, and after a few decades of isolation, of being held and forced to watch your beloved brother do my bidding, you’ll change your mind about giving me your magic. You’ll have no choice, you’ll have long gone insane by then. With the two of you broken and brought to heel, I’ll conquer these lands. And Asgard won’t be able to stop me, not without killing her princes. Oh, how Asgard will mourn and cry, searching for you. Only to have you reappear, bound to me, after everyone long thought you dead. I’ll get what I deserve then. I’ll have revenge on the ones who cast me aside, they’ll all be sorry they underestimated me.”

“That all sounds…just brilliant. Lovely planning. Terribly sorry I’m not going to be able to stick around to watch your little quest for catharsis-” Loki gathers his seidr and raises his hands, but Hasso raises his own, balls his hand into a fist. Loki’s spell sputters. He frowns and starts to quickly gather energy for another - only to realize he can’t.

Hasso jerks his hand and Loki slides across the floor, boots scraping against the stone, fighting desperately for purchase.

“The blood,” He realizes with a gasp. It had soaked his clothes, sprayed out over his body when his horse fell. Blood, the perfect carrier for magic.

He is at Hasso’s feet now. The sorcerer reaches out and grips his arms with bony, talon-like fingers, stronger than Loki expected. They dig into his flesh.

“Yes. Too bad for your horse, she was a beautiful creature. We took the liberty of adding a bit of potion to the blood covering you, while you were unconscious. Couldn’t take any chances. I’m sure over time you’ll break the spell, counteract it, but you’d need time and concentration and you have neither.” Hasso’s grip tightens on his arms, beginning to truly hurt now. His magic travels through the blood soaking Loki’s clothes, burning as it alights the potion on the fabric. Loki, concentration slipping in the face of the burning pain, the sting of the magic, begins to struggle in earnest.

“Let me go!” He fights, but cannot escape the burning, cannot break Hasso’s grip. Then he hears a familiar voice from outside. "_No!_" Loki gasps. He fights harder, but the magic is starting to wear through his concentration.

“Shh, shh, shhhhh,” Hasso says. “Can’t you hear it?” Loki turns towards the door, but fingers on his chin force his gaze back to the sorcerer. “Your brother is coming - or is he your lover? Fascinating, that in such a high house he would be both. Or perhaps not entirely unexpected, with the reckless hedonism of the royal family of Asgard-”

Loki snarls, struggles. “_Thor!”_ He cries, trying to warn him. Hasso taps his finger once against Loki’s cheek and his jaw snaps shut with a click.

“Ah, don’t worry, your highness. It won’t matter much longer. Your family, the kingdom, they’ll never find out. You’ll be trapped here forever, if all goes well. And, well, if things don’t go well, you’ll be dead. Either way, you’ll never have to face the embarrassment of having your secret spread out for all to pick apart, all to judge. It’s _over_.”

Loki cannot help the harsh sob that tears from his throat, muted by his clenched jaw. He wanted to be away from Asgard, he wanted to be free of the searing gazes that watched their every move, their every touch. But not like _this_. This had never been his intention.

He just wanted space. They left because he wanted to, he knows that Thor did not feel the same insecurity, didn’t suffer under the scrutiny the way he did. Thor left, and stayed away from Asgard, for Loki’s sake. And now they would be lost for it. Now he was left powerless, in pain, with no way of warning his brother. Tears slip from his eyes and run cold down his cheeks.

Hasso finally lets him go. Abruptly, the pain stops, leaving him shocked and weak. He sways on his feet, wavering and Hasso just smiles and taps his cheek. His knees buckle and he falls limply into the sorcerer's arms.

At the very moment Loki is slowly waking on the floor of the castle, about to learn of the sorcerer that had been ruling these woods, Thor is leaning against a tree, catching his breath, trying to calm himself down. The panic he felt, the wild reckless fury at finding his brother gone, slowly fades, leaving behind a cold determination. Loki is missing, yes, but there will be traces left behind. Thor is not a bad hunter, he can find the trail and track where he had gone. _He can do it. _

He might even solve the mystery while he was at it, though that now takes a far second place to getting his brother back.

Thor returns to where he left his horse, in the clearing where they had made camp. The sun is tilting towards late afternoon, casting long shadows across the clearing. Thor quickly packs the rest of their things and slings the pack over his horse’s back.

He does not ride her himself. He stays low to the ground, examining the tracks and evidence that lead deeper into the forest.

Loki had been moving quickly, in the opposite direction as Thor. Desperately even. Thor can see broken branches, tramped brush, horse hair tangled in bark. He even comes across a scrap of leather, mingled with a bit of blood, on a particularly sharp branch. That nearly sends him into a frenzied panic again, but he controls himself.

“He was moving carelessly,” He says quietly. “He was frightened by something, or else chasing something and did not notice the branch where it struck his arm.” The blood was probably just from a scratch.

He keeps moving.

As the light is truly starting to fade, he comes across a thinning of the trees. His horse stops dead and refuses to move for a full minute, until Thor finally coaxes her into the clearing.

The clearing is in fact a massive, crystal clean lake. The water is an odd bluish-purple, shimmering where the light of the setting sun glints off of it. Just like the water in the fountain. This must be the source.

It is surrounded on all sides by the dense forest, and a thin shoreline. On the beach where Thor has emerged, there are the signs of a commotion, chaotic hoof prints and churned up sections of sand. A large section of the beach seems to have been dug up recently, churned up as if a great deal of sand has been removed. There is nothing else to be found.

“What in the Nine?” He hisses under his breath. “Loki, where _are_ you?” When he examines the beach more closely, he can make out two clear footprints with the exact shape of Loki’s boot. The toes are pointing towards the water.

He checks a few meters down either side of the shore, but there are no signs in either direction of anyone having been there in some time. Neither are there signs of anyone returning into the forest. The trail Thor had followed had led in only one direction.

Fear again. Thor looks out over the lake, but the surface is smooth and unbroken. There are no reeds to hide a body, no pockets or dark shapes that would suggested a drowned victim. He holds the panic at bay by force.

Thor cannot follow any other path. Loki’s trail has gone cold, the tracks clearly lead into the lake. More than that, something inside him tells him to press onwards. He ties his horse to a tree, and steps into the icy waters of the lake. The cold steals his breath and sends goosebumps rising on his arms. But he pushes forwards into the bitterly cold lake.

Suddenly, his vision goes black.

Heart pounding, Thor takes stock of himself. Nothing feels different, he is still up to his mid-thigh in cold water, still feels air on his face. He just cannot see. Except-

A flicker. Just a little bit of flickering light in the distance. His eyes begin to adjust and he realizes it’s not quite blackness, just the darkness of a night with no moon or stars. Thor pushes forward, hoping that it is Loki conjuring the light. Perhaps his brother had waded out into the lake just as he had and become lost, or injured, and was waiting for him. But as he grows closer he sees that the light is flickering and yellow, nothing like the soft green lights Loki conjures. He can hear the faint voice of someone singing.

He follows the light and the voice through the water, splashing his way across the lake. The lakebed never drops any lower, the water rising just to his thigh, though he had assumed it was deep. As he grows closer to the opposite shore, he can make out the outline of a great castle against the dark grey sky. The voice is coming from a woman, beautiful but unkempt. Her clothes are much patched, her long blond hair tangled. Hand on his sword, approaches the singing woman.

She stops singing. “Hello,” She says. “We’ve been expecting you.”

Thor pauses. “Oh?”

“Yes. This way.”

“I’ll have you know that I am a son of-”

“My friend knows who you are. You seek your companion, yes? Follow me.”

Thor still hesitates. “Who are you? How do I know to trust you?” His fist tightens on the hilt of his sword.

“I live here,” She says plainly. “With my friend. Your companion was here earlier. He was injured, not badly, don’t worry. A minor leg injury. But he’ll need help walking, follow me.”

The whole aura of the place is eerie, from the woman’s smooth and calm voice, to the sudden darkness that has swallowed the forest, and the lack of stars in the sky.

“Are you behind the disappearances from the village?”

She widens her smile, opens her mouth and a series of screams emanate from her throat. Thor takes a step back. She changes the angle of her throat and a multitude of laughing voices sound. Another angle and the laughs turn to moans, gasps, the sounds of sex. She closes her mouth and the voice stop. “People hear things in the woods. They are often led astray.”

Thor’s heart is pounding. “Where is my brother?”

“Is he your brother? He didn’t say. Follow me to him.”

She hasn’t yet tried to take his sword or make any other attack, so he complies, stepping after her into the castle. Up a short set of steps and through another door, and they are in a great hall, though the edges of the room are shrouded in shadow.

“Welcome,” A male voice says.

“Go ahead,” She gestures him into the room.

“So you are the one responsible for the disappearances,” Thor says as he steps farther into the hall.

“In a manner of speaking.” The man turns. “Technically they wander off themselves. They are warned by the villagers to stay away, to stay out of the forest, but they do not listen. They kill themselves, by their own hubris and their folly and sometimes their greed.”

“I’m sure you help them along.”

He grins. “We all did. Walla here helps them choose the right path. The villagers help by letting it all happen. And I help in the end, yes. I haven’t introduced myself yet. I am Hasso. I was trained by sorcerers on the Grey Island, before being unjustly exiled. I made my way to this forest to establish my kingdom, live out my days in peace.”

Thor cannot help but snort. “Some kingdom. A kingdom of the disappeared?” Hasso folds his hands in front of him with a smile. Thor becomes aware of the sounds of faint chattering through the walls, like a party occurring just around the bend. When he tries to focus on it, the sounds fade.

“Oh. It’s not so bad. I apologize. I’ve been rude. I should have been more welcoming.”

“No need, my lord.” Thor looks at him with narrowed eyes. “We will not be staying long.”

“No?” Walla has draped herself over a chair. “Too bad, your highness.”

Thor draws his sword. “If you know who I am, you will know that I am Thor, son of Odin, prince of Asgard. I am a practiced warrior, you will return to me my brother and you will release us and _perhaps_ I will let you live-” He sucks in a shocked breath as his sword vanishes from his hand.

“Did you see where our guest left his sword, Walla?”

“I believe he left it on the shore of the lake. How forgetful.”

“Yes. How forgetful.”

“I need no weapon to destroy you-” Thor growls, furious. He curls his hands into trembling fists. Faint sparks of lightning travel over his muscles, dissipating quickly. Without Mjolnir, left in the vaults on Asgard, he cannot do much more, but it might serve as sufficient intimidation. His brute strength should do quite nicely in the other regard. “I will tear you to pieces and rid this land of your vile-”

“But that won’t bring your brother back.” Thor looks at him, shaking with fury. “If you want your brother back, you will have to pass my tests and answer my riddles. It is the chance I give all who find themselves here. Some even win their freedom, though most are not interested in returning to the village once they learn the truth.”

“So the villagers _are_ behind this?”

“Not quite, though they have never been too interested in stopping it. And are quite glad at some of the disappearances. And maybe I toss them a bit of a…magical bone, every now and then, so to speak. So will you take up my game? I swear to you, to any gods you worship - I’ll swear upon the Norns even - that if you answer my riddles correctly I’ll return your brother to you and escort you personally out of the forest.”

“Where is my brother now?”

“Resting. I’ll show you, once you answer the first riddle correctly.”

“And if I answer wrongly?”

“Well. You’ll have to see. I can tell you though, prince, answering wrongly and not answering at all will have the same outcome. You will not escape this forest. Even if you are to physically beat me, take your brother and run, you’d only be running into the darkness. You’d starve to death long before even coming close to breaking my enchantment. And don’t think your brother would have any more luck - I’ve had decades here to work, and centuries more practice. He won’t break my spells before you run out of food and drinkable water. So. Are you up to the challenge, great God of Thunder? Rumor has reached us that the younger prince is the clever one.”

Thor lifts his chin to him. He takes a deep breath. “I may not have my brother’s mind, but I assure you, I am not without wits.”

“There will be four riddles. Answer them all correctly and I will return your brother and let you be on your way.”

Thor can see no other choice. “Agreed.”

“Good,” Hasso smiles poisonously. “Let us begin: My life can be measured in hours, I serve by being devoured. Thin, I am fast. Thick, I am slow. Wind and water are my bitterest enemies. What am I?”

Thor has to think for a moment, but then recalls that he has heard this riddle before. Volstagg posed a version of it to them, in a warm tavern on Asgard, several years ago. He grins. “A candle.”1

Hasso’s smile only widens. He raises his pale hand and snaps his fingers. Around his throne room, hundreds of candles suddenly burst into flame, illuminating the hall. The light is suddenly bright enough to make out the details of a dark shape behind the sorcerer and Thor’s heart sinks. “No!”

It is a column of water, the same shimmering bluish-purple as the water in the lake. Suspended in the column, is Loki. His clothes are in tatters, coated in a dark substance, and his eyes are wide with feral panic. As Thor watches his body spasms, his hands clawing at his throat. He can’t breathe, he’s drowning-

Thor’s heartbeat races. Sweat beads on his temples and in his palms.

“Answer the riddles and your brother goes free. Get one wrong and he remains in the water, where he will surely drown.”

Thor desperately wants to lunge for the column of water, cannot take his eyes of where Loki struggles. The magic in the air stops him, the fear that he will not be able to defeat Hasso through brute force.

Hasso is already posing the next riddle. “Who lives without breath?”

Thor does not take his eyes off his brother. “The fish.”2

Hasso laughs, mocking him. “Yes, the fish lives without breath, but the prince will not. What is it that gives light to men, but swallows flame, and wolves strive after it always?”

Thor looks to the sorcerer. There is a triumphant gleam in his eyes. He thinks Thor will get this wrong. Thor glances once back to Loki, his lungs aching in sympathy, then turns back to answer. “The sun.”3

The smirk drops off the sorcerer’s face, a flash of annoyance twists his features. “Yes. The sun. The wolves Skoll and Hati are said to be fated to swallow the sun and the moon at the time of Ragnarok, at Asgard’s last defeat, her final destruction.”

“Ask your last question, witch.” Thor’s heart beats fast but instead of fear, he feels anger now. He will not be defeated by this vile creature. He only needs to answer one more and Loki will be free.

“The first person we lured here, when we first arrived after centuries of homelessness, was a hedge witch from the village who came out to try and banish me for good. What did she say with her dying breath?”

Thor blinks. Takes a moment to think through the words, look for a reference, look for the trick. There is nothing that he can see. “How…how could I possibly know that?” He roars. In the corner of his eye, Loki’s whole body spasms.

The sorcerer smiles. “Answer the question.”

A witch, perhaps a prophecy. Thor glances at Loki. “She...she cursed you. She told you you would remain trapped here, alone, that you would never get the power you crave-”

Hasso is laughing. Smiling triumphantly once again.

“Cheat!” Thor roars. “That was not-”

“She begged for her life. They all beg for their lives at the end. No one is as brave as all the stories say. They all beg for their lives.” He clenches his fist and the column of water changes colors, to a more greenish, thicker hue. Loki grasps at his throat, struggling twice as hard. His throat bulges as he chokes, his eyes rolling back in his head-

“No!” Thor gasps and lunges for the column. When he touches it, it is as smooth as glass though it looks to be flowing water. He bangs his fist against it and only succeeds in bruising his knuckles. Loki reaches out for him, twitching, his hand limp where it extends towards Thor. The other is relaxing its grip on his throat. He’s dying. “Is that what you want?” He asks in a broken voice. “You want me to beg?”

“I wish for more power,” The sorcerer says with a patronizing tone. “And you’ll give it to me. You didn’t pass my tests, but you may yet free your brother. You must swear to bind your powers to me, swear your soul to me, and you both may yet live. You might become a partner of sorts, just like Walla here.”

“It’s not so bad, once you get used to it,” She says with her smooth siren’s voice and a sultry smile.

Thor turns back to the column of water, a thought forming in his mind. Loki looks back desperately, eyes locking on Thor’s. He’s unsure how much Loki can hear, how much he can understand through the water, through his panic, but he hopes it is enough. “I will, I will swear to you, but let my brother go.”

“Swear it, swear it, Odinson!”

Thor cannot take his eyes off Loki’s twitching body, but he manages to keep a fragment of his wits about him. His heart pounds in his chest, he feels sick with fear, but he steels himself, opens his mouth and says, very carefully, “I, Thor Odinson, prince of Asgard, swear to the Norns to bind my soul and my power to the sorcerer in this palace who has bested me in a contest of wits.”

The sorcerer smiles and waves a hand. The column of water breaks open and Loki crashes to the floor, sputtering and vomiting up water onto the floor. His chest heaves, painful sounding coughs. Thor rushes to his side, kneeling beside him.

“Brother?” He cups Loki’s neck.

Loki grabs his wrist, grip painfully tight, still gasping for breath and shaking hard. “Thor, what have you done?” He croaks.

“Your magic is mine,” Hasso sneers from behind him. Thor forces Loki to keep his eyes on him.

“Indeed,” Thor says quietly. “I swore to the Norns to give my magic and my life to the sorcerer who had bested me in a contest of wits.” He gives Loki a small smile, dropping his voice low. “Take it.” There’s a flicker of confusion in Loki’s eyes, then dawning understanding. “Brother, _take it.”_

Hasso’s triumphant expression falters. “Wait-”

Thor seizes Loki’s face and crashes their lips together. The wet kiss cracks like the moment lightning strikes a tree. Power, raw energy and magic, passes from Thor into Loki. Against his lips, Loki lets out a cry, overwhelmed. Then he reaches out and to the sorcerer’s cry of “No!” he combines Thor’s rough but wild magic with his own, works it through the tight weavings of Hasso’s spells and enchantments. Walla screams out once and then the illusion explodes.

Everything is still and silent.

The princes lie, unconscious, in the faded ruins of the castle, for a long time. Finally the sky begins to lighten and Thor stirs.

“Loki…Loki!” He grabs his brother’s shoulder and shakes. He touches his cheek, brushes his hair back with trembling fingertips. “Brother, wake up, _please_-”

Loki moans and cracks open his eyes. “_Norns_, Thor, that was foolish.”

Thor smiles, flooded with relief. “And here I thought I was being particularly clever.”

“I suppose you’d like your magic back?”

“Please.” His veins feel drained, dulled, without the spark of power that normally lives within him. He helps Loki to sit up.

Loki takes his hand and says, “By the Norns, I release the bond so sworn, and return the magic rightfully to its home.” The power settles back into him and with a sigh of relief, Thor looks around. There is no sign of the sorcerer, or the siren, or any of the other things that adorned his hall. The castle itself is in ruins, but worn and overgrown, as if it had been like that for centuries.

“You did well, brother, undoing his enchantments.”

“Admittedly, so did you. It was a foolish risk, but well done. The sorcerer who had bested you in a battle of wits, ha.” Loki still looks pale and drawn. There’s a slight tremor to his hands as he brushes still wet hair out of his face.

“I cannot count the times you have defeated me in a contest of the mind.” Thor touches his cheek. “I’m only glad I could live up to your example to save you from the water.” There’s a flicker on Loki’s face, of fear or uncertainty, and Thor wipes it away with a kiss. Loki melts against him with a slight shiver. “Let’s get out of here. Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1"My life can be measured in hours, I serve by being devoured. Thin, I am quick. Fat, I am slow, and wind is my foe. _Candle._" [Riddle source.](http://riddlesandanswers.treasurehuntriddles.org/Tags/candle)  
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> 
> 2 "Hverr adalauss lifir? Who lives without breath? The fish."  
This ended up being more appropriate than I originally thought. XD "The theme of breathlessness is particularly popular in the riddle collection…The trope of describing any inanimate object as ‘without breath’ is used particularly compellingly by the riddles, which make something that may have become conventional mysterious and provocative." p. 126, Hannah Burrows. ["Wit and Wisdom: The Worldview of the Old Norse-Icelandic Riddles and Their Relationship to Eddic Poetry."](https://www.researchgate.net/publication/289785263_Wit_and_Wisdom_The_Worldview_of_the_Old_Norse-Icelandic_Riddles_and_Their_Relationship_to_Eddic_Poetry) _Eddic, Skaldic, and Beyond: Poetic Variety in Medieval Iceland and Norway._ Ed. Martin Chase. Fordham University Press: New York (2014).  
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> 
> 3 "What is it that gives light to men, but swallows flame, and wolves strive after it always?" Burrows, p. 121  
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	4. a warm bath and lingering memories

In the dawning light, they walk, Loki near limping, around the lake. The odd shimmer is gone from the water. The lake is entirely normal now. Thor’s horse is tied to the tree where he left her and they find her munching on some grass as if nothing had happened.

Thor boosts Loki into the saddle and mounts behind him. They ride back the way they came, as long as they can out of the forest, until they’ve reached the ledge where they ate lunch on that first day. Loki slumps back against Thor, nearly asleep, by the time they clear the edge. Thor himself is sore and exhausted.

“We’re out of the forest,” He whispers. “Let us make camp here for the night.”

Loki casts a single wan glance back and nods. “I’m tired.” His voice croaks, and he winces like speaking pains him.

They quickly set up their tent in the softest patch of grass they can find. Thor is too tired to make a fire so they just eat some of their dried rations and crawl into their tent.

“The water was so cold,” Loki whispers in the darkness. “It hurt, I couldn’t breath, I-”

“Shhh, it’s all right now. I have you.” Thor gathers him up in his arms, holding him against his chest and rocking him as he trembles with suppressed sobs. Thor can’t help the near hysterical laugh that bubbles up in his throat, an expression of the pure, giddy relief he feels.

Loki stills. “What? What is so funny?”

“I’m just…_Norns_, I was so frightened.” They had come so close to doom, so close to something they could not save themselves from, and that they had skated so near to it leaves Thor feeling almost drunk with the joy of their escape. He pulls back, to take Loki’s face in his hands. He thumbs away the streaking tears running down his cheeks. And he smiles.

Loki’s eyes dart across his face, looking for something. Reassurance. He takes a shaky breath and presses closer, dropping his head so their temples rest together. His hand shakes as he brings it up to rest on Thor’s shoulder, squeezing.

Thor tangles one hand in Loki’s hair, wraps the other around his waist, rubbing a small circle.

“You’re all right, brother. I’m here.”

At the fork in the road, Thor stops. “Should we?”

“Thor.”

“It’s only fair.”

“I loathe admitting I was wrong.”

“Technically we were not entirely wrong,” Thor points out. “While the townspeople were permissive, they were neither witches nor were they _directly_ sacrificing travelers.”

“A nuance I’m sure will not be lost on our dear innkeeper friend.” Loki sighs.

“So? A night in the inn, provided we admit defeat?”

“It’s time to go home,” Loki says. “I want to go home.”

Thor nods, a little sadly. Their journey is at an end, and they would likely never be able to replicate the quiet, devoted life they’d built over the last few months. Loki reaches back to grab his hand, squeezing tight. Thor presses his lips to the back of his neck.

They turn away from the inn and back towards Asgard.

\- - - - - - -

_Many years later…_

“I’m here.”

Then Loki is there, fitted to his body like a missing piece of a puzzle. There’s always a crash after the battle and Thor’s comes the moment Loki’s arms wrap around his waist, when he feels Loki’s fists gather up bits of his cape. When he presses his face into that familiar black hair, ignoring the ache in his empty eye socket. He feels the warmth of Loki’s breath on the back of his neck. He holds his younger brother tight, hoping against all odds that he’s finally stopped running from him. Hoping there is a way for them to come back together, when all else has been stripped away.

Loki’s head settles on his shoulder and Thor does not move to pull away.

Loki makes himself scarce throughout the next day. Thor glimpses him at the edges of the room, but he is always gone when Thor turns to approach. The healers report Loki has frequently checked in with them, assisting with some healing spells and bringing them supplies. So he has not completely vanished, though he seems to prefer the shadows for the time being. The thought does not entirely put Thor at ease, but it takes some of the fear away.

Shortly after Thor retires at the end of the second day, he hears a soft rapping on his door. Loki lets himself in, bearing a bottle of wine.

“I found a case of these in a storeroom. If you’d like to share.”

Thor smiles. “Of course.”

They sit across from each other, sharing glasses of the too sweet wine. Thor can’t help his wince at the sugary taste. “This is vile. It makes my teeth ache.”

“It’s not that bad, brother. If you dislike the taste then, I suppose I’ll keep these for myself.” He draws from one of his hidden pockets a couple of biscuits cradled in cloth and drizzled with a violet syrup.

“And where did you get those?”

“One of the nursemaids found the syrup. Once we assured ourselves it was neither intoxicating nor poisonous, she made these cakes for the children. I stole some.” Thor reaches for it and Loki pulls it away. “I thought you didn’t want it.”

“I never said that. Just because I do not have your sweet tooth…”

Loki hands him one. At the first bite, Thor’s mouth waters. The cake is good, but the syrup is, indeed, far too sweet.

“I believe it is supposed to be used to make cocktails. We attempted to dilute it but were unsuccessful.” Loki finishes his and licks his fingers clean. Thor hands over his own. “I told you.”

“I don’t know how you can eat that.”

“I suppose I got rather used to it, on Sakaar.”

Thor frowns at the underlying tension in his voice. “How long were you there exactly before I-”

“That doesn’t matter,” Loki snaps, then looks immediately guilty. Thor raises an eyebrow at him, but does not push the matter farther. Loki leans back against the cushions, tucking his feet under him and says in a forced light tone, “don’t you want to hear what I’ve discovered among your new people?”

Loki has collected quite the hoard of rumors, impressive for being on the ship a scant few days. He has already identified three possible clusters of trouble, several weaknesses in their supply manifests, and other pieces of gossip among the survivors.

“You’ve been busy.”

“What did you think I was doing, lying around all day?”

“That’s what you were doing when I found you on Asgard.”

Loki barks a laugh. “Just because you happened-”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong. Come, brother,” Loki waves a hand. “You said it yourself. I understand ruling in a way you never will.”

Thor groans. “So that _was_ you. Loki, I swear…”

Loki ignores him. “Just because I appear to be doing nothing does not mean I actually am. That’s what ruling is, Thor, collecting information, finding points of strength or weakness, sowing alliances. That’s why you need me-” Loki’s expression suddenly freezes. There’s something guarded and wary in his eyes. “That is. If you…if you want me to stay.”

“If I…? Loki, of _course_ I want you to stay. Brother,” Thor scrubs a hand over his face, wincing at the ache in his eye socket. “Why would you-”

“Never mind then,” Loki says. “Pour me another glass.” Thor complies, topping up his own glass as well.

“You have always been so talented at collecting things, even information like this. Little magpie…”

“Mother used to call me.” Loki looks away.

“I’m sorry,” Thor says softly. “I didn’t mean…”

“No. You needn’t be sorry. You used to call me that too.”

“I did. She started it, but she was right. Little magpie.” Thor smiles. The wine might be sweet but it was strong. Thor was already feeling a little lightheaded, filled with an intense fondness and deep nostalgia. If the way Loki has sunk into the couches, looking brooding, is any indication, he is feeling the effects as well. “I’ve missed you,” Thor says after a moment.

Loki folds his hands over his stomach and sighs, in a way that Thor knows really means, _yes, yes, I missed you too._ “I _am_ sorry. For the grief."

“No, not just that. I’ve had a lot of time to think, when I thought you dead. A lot of time to regret. The first time, when you fell, I begged the Norns to bring you back to me and I swore I would do better.”

“Well. I ruined that, didn’t I?”

“It’s not…circumstances didn’t…” Thor sighs. “I said the same after… the second time…but then when I discovered you had tricked me, I was so angry. We just…we have to stop this dance around each other, brother. I cannot do it anymore. I cannot withstand it.”

Loki sets his mouth into a firm line. “Perhaps it would truly be best if-”

“No. Don’t say it. You were wrong in that elevator, and you know it. You know we could never be parted from each other for long.”

“No,” Loki says. “No, I suppose not. I wish I could but…I did not quite know what to do with myself without you, if I’m being honest.”

“Without you I felt like a piece of my heart was missing. And I had time to think…” Thor sighs heavily, sounding burdened. “I just…I’m glad you came back, brother.”

Loki hums. “Alright.”

The end of this evening is inevitable. The sweet wine, the quiet, warm room, combined with deep well of nostalgia, the intensity of the grief at what they’ve lost, relief at what they’ve regained, all built to a head. Loki ends up in Thor’s lap as his tongue slips into his mouth. Thor’s hands slide up under his shirt, caressing the hard muscles of his back. Loki lets out a little gasp and presses closer. His nimble fingers dance over the back of Thor’s neck, running through his shorn hair.

Thor sets his hands on his chest and pushes him back. “We can’t,” He pants as they part. “We can’t do this again.”

“What? Don’t trust me?” Loki asks breathily. Their faces are still nearly touching and Thor drops his forehead to Loki’s.

“It’s not that, it’s…” He sighs. “It’s been a long time. So much has happened.”

“So much has changed, you mean,” Loki says, a little bitterly.

“Yes.”

Loki fights to pull back, out of Thor’s grip. “Well. If you find me so repulsive now, brother-”

Thor keeps his grip firm as he laughs, and Loki squirms. “I do not find you repulsive. I care for you, as I always have. But brother, you cannot deny that this wasn’t healthy when we did it before. And with all the things that have passed between us in recent years…” Thor’s hand lays heavily on the back of Loki’s neck. His thumb runs over his skin. “I want to trust you. I want to feel for you as I did before. But I fear if we began this again, it would consume us. It would be a poison that ultimately would tear us apart.”

“Is that what you believe happened?” He snaps.

“I don’t know, Loki. But I know what I said was true - I have long felt you to be the other half of my heart, the other half of my soul.” Thor runs his fingers through Loki’s hair. “I don’t want to ruin what we might build. We would risk our future, if we let desire consume us again. I don’t want to drive you away. I don’t want us to drive each other away, by moving too quickly.”

After a moment’s hesitation, where he seems to be seeking a lie in Thor’s words, Loki nods. “I understand.”

Thor kisses him lightly once on the lips, once on the forehead. “Good. Now, shall we have another drink?”

The tension drains out of the evening, leaving an awkward sort of camaraderie behind. They get rather drunk and fall asleep on the sofa and in the morning mention nothing about their kiss the night before. There’s a bit of awkwardness, a bit of bumbling, but they part ways and by the time they meet again at dinner it’s gone.

They spend the next few weeks wrestling their small community into order, building up a hierarchy and structure to their little band of refugees.

It is not the way it was before. In some ways, it is.

They bicker constantly. But their fighting is such a comfortable pattern that it feels like coming home in an odd way. None of the others remotely understand - the Valkyrie seems on the brink of suggesting they leave Loki behind on their next supply mission, Bruce Banner looks very nervous any time their bickering escalates beyond little snipes. Heimdall just looks tired. But for the two of them, each argument is laced with fondness.

There are darker times, to be sure. Things occasionally swing towards Loki’s actions in New York and he artfully dances away from that discussion, which maddens Thor to no end. There are the nightmares, for both of them, that leave them gasping, reaching out across empty sheets. But neither makes any concrete moves towards the other. Once, Thor hesitates for a few long moments outside of Loki’s door, hand pressed flat against the cold metal, but does not enter. He returns to his own lonely room, and empty bed, and sleeps fitfully for the rest of the night.

This sort of pained tension builds until one evening at dinner, Thor cannot hold himself back. He’s tired and a bit irritable, and Loki prods at him, finally asking, “What’s gotten into you?”

“I cannot sleep because I keep dreaming about your damned _death_, brother, do not expect me to be in a _sunny_ mood all the time," Thor snaps.

Loki rears back, shocked. Something flickers across his face - hurt, guilt - before he settles.

“I apologize,” Loki says and appears to mean it. He does not say another word about the matter, but a few minutes later slides closer along the bench, letting their legs press together. Thor relaxes a bit, and feels a bit foolish for the outburst.

Thor knocks on his door later that night. Loki lets him in and Thor leans against the desk. “I have a proposition for you, brother.”

“Oh?” Loki says with a smirk and raised eyebrow.

Thor ignores him. “I was speaking to Heimdall about our next destination. It seems that they are _very_ formal. So formal that only royalty are allowed in their tower. Supply negotiations will take place through their emissaries on our ship, but they want me to pay a formal visit. Or perhaps..._we_ could pay a formal visit.”

“The first official royal visit of your reign.”

Thor winces. “Yes, I suppose.” He looks down. “So. Do you want to come?”

“Do you wish me to come, my king?”

“You’re mocking me.”

“Only a little, brother. But in truth, what do you want? Do you want me to come?”

“Yes,” Thor admits, sounding quietly vulnerable. “Yes, I want you there.”

“Then I will.”

An awkward tension hovers in the air. Thor clears his throat. “The others don’t approve, of course,” He says quickly. “They think it’s too risky. Bruce even volunteered to pretend to be you.”

Loki has to laugh. “That would have been an amusing sight. I’m sure he thinks I’ll stab you in the back as soon as we’re alone. I won’t, if my word still means anything.”

“I am not too concerned. Thank you for agreeing to come. I think it should be…well…”

“It will be formal and stuffy and boring and I’ll assume you’re doing this as some form of punishment, or so that you will not have to suffer alone. What’s that Earth phrase? ‘Misery loves company?’ But yes, I will come with you. I won’t even complain. Too much.”

Thor smiles. “Thank you.” He clasps his shoulder and his hand lingers. “Goodnight, brother. Sleep well.” And he leaves him alone for the night.

Three days later they arrive on the most garishly decorated planet Loki has ever seen. And that includes Sakaar.

“I think I’m going to go blind,” The Valkyrie says. “Norns, that’s a lot of silver. And the gems…”

“Yikes,” Bruce Banner says. Thor and Loki are dressed in their finest - which, in the aftermath of Ragnarok, is admittedly not very fine. Loki had managed to squirrel away some odds and ends in a dimensional pocket: an extra embroidered cape, a silver hair pin, leather vambraces with embossed images of Yggdrasil on them. Thor adjusts his eyepatch and sighs. Bruce glances back at Loki with a suspicious look in his eye. “Are you sure you don’t want me to, uh…”

“Dr. Banner, are you suggesting we lie to our hosts and flaunt their customs by allowing a commoner into their tower?” Loki asks in his haughtiest tone. “My, my, Midgardians really haven’t learned to respect other cultures…”

“Loki,” Thor warns.

“Besides, can you do this, Dr. Banner?” Loki lifts his hands and gathers his magic. The glamours fit easily over them, rendering their armor shining, the cloths of their capes heavier and laden with embroidery and adornments.

“Impressive,” Valkyrie says.

“We are docking now,” Heimdall says. “Good luck, your majesty. Your highness,” He inclines his head with an amused smile.

“Well,” Thor says as they step into the airlock. It seals and they are alone. “Are you ready?”

“I am ready as ever, my king.” Loki bows.

“Come now, brother.”

“This is going to be insufferable, I can already sense it.

Thor smiles and Loki’s heart seems to skip a beat. “Thank you for coming.”

“Oh, shut up. I’m going to hate you in an hour. I can’t believe you convinced me.” Thor just smiles knowingly, no doubt recalling how easily Loki had truly been convinced. Thor had only needed to ask him directly, and he had folded. “Well, I do hope you remember the protocols after your years wandering - _oh_.”

The doors open to the full court, all on their knees with their foreheads pressed to the floor. The king and queen can barely be looked upon, they are so draped in jewels and crystals, surrounded by a bright light.

Thor straightens his spine and steps from the airlock. Loki hesitates a moment more, and then follows.

Loki spends the majority of their visit with his mind spinning. He uses all the observational skills he’s learned, the subtlest forms of magic he can to work out the sinister intentions of this court. They have none, at least none that he can detect. He had assumed that Thor secretly wanted him to come for his skills at subterfuge and ability to detect magic, but that assumption seems to weaken the longer they are on the planet.

Thor says nothing to him about their motivations, only shares a couple looks of amusement at various overly formal exchanges and displays of wealth.

They sit through an abysmally _boring_ dinner and quickly make excuses to retire back to their assigned quarters. The suite is extravagant, three bedrooms and a common room, with a massive attached bath. Loki flops back on the too-soft sofa and lets the illusion concealing their forms drop. The fanciful, heavily embroidered formal clothes vanish, leaving the plain garb that is all they rescued from Asgard.

“I could not detect any lies or obfuscations,” He says. “Aside from the usual. The princess is sleeping with the butler, who is _also_ sleeping with the princess’s personal maid. The king and queen no longer share a bed. If we were staying longer, it would be somewhat entertaining to watch this court. But there is nothing dangerous or threatening to us.”

Thor gives him a look. “I know that.”

“You knew…”

“I did not believe them to be a threat to us. Don’t you remember? You’ve done this work before.” Loki gapes at him. “We did not end up coming, but Mother asked you to investigate. You said they were shallow, self-aggrandizing, and ultimately nonthreatening.”

“I don’t remember that at all.” It isn’t an uncommon occurrence nowadays, these gaps in his memories. Loki wonders what else has been lost as part of this memory, what made him bury it, or why Thanos had wanted to-

Luckily Thor continues talking and he doesn’t have the time to dwell on the Titan or the holes in his mind. “I didn’t ask you here to redo your work.”

“I don’t understand why you’ve taken me with you then,” Loki says, running a finger across the fringe on the sofa. “If you did not require my magic or my skills…”

“Has it occurred to you that I wanted to spend time with you?” Thor sounds frustrated and Loki cannot help but tense. That thrumming anxiety that pushes him to do _something_, or to run, returns. “You don’t need to have _use_ for me to want to spend time with you. I thought you might have wanted to take a break from the ship as well. Get away from things. Like we used to. Like our old adventures.” Thor’s voice has softened and the anxious alarms in Loki's mind quiet.

“Ah.” Loki leans back. “Though those adventures did not always have such pleasant settings. Or endings.”

“Do you remember the time we spent the night in that brothel?”

“Which time?” Loki laughs.

“We were caught in a storm and we spent the night in a whorehouse. Then we went off to investigate those disappearances. Dorik, I think the town was called-”

“You don’t mean the time I was abducted by that sorcerer? Drowned in enchanted water while you answered riddles? You consider that an adventure?”

“You don’t? It was certainly one of the more memorable ones.”

Loki blinks. “I almost died.”

“You did _not_.”

“Thor, yes I did!”

“You must be exaggerating-”

Loki nearly laughs. “I was _dying_ and had to-”

“And you had so little faith in me?”

Loki sighs. “I don’t know. All I know is that I was terrified. I thought you were gone, I thought I was alone and, yes, even when you appeared I feared you would not be in time, or skilled enough, to save me _or_ yourself. I saw the fall of our house, the end of Asgard, me drowning slowly in enchanted water; you, bound and enslaved or sacrificed, or whatever else they’d planned for you. We hadn’t told anyone where we were. No one would come for us, no one would have known we were in danger, and we would have turned into just another mystery. The two lost princes of Asgard.”

“I hadn’t thought about…” Thor says absently, staring into the distance.

“Yes, well. I suppose you were too caught up in your heroics to notice. I was rather preoccupied myself. Drowning _hurts_, you know. And I was doing so for quite some time.” That earns a flash of guilt on Thor’s face, and an answering thrum of guilt in Loki’s gut. He hadn’t really meant to provoke his brother like that.

“Yes. Caught up in my own heroics. As I often have been. Too often.”

“It doesn’t matter. It was a long time ago.”

Thor sits on the stool. “You’re right. In all honesty, brother, I was frightened too. I suppose my memory is colored by the relief I felt when we survived and escaped. The relief, the adrenaline…always made everything seem like a roaring good adventure afterwards. You’ve always…felt things more deeply than I have, remembered hurts more strongly. But you _are_ right - I was scared, too. It was the first time I had truly nearly lost you.”

“The first time? Further memory troubles? Are we going to have to rehash our entire history of misadventures this evening, brother? I’d been wounded before.”

“True, yes, in battle. Once fairly seriously, if I recall the chronology correctly. But those earlier incidents…I was not alone with you then. We were always surrounded by soldiers, guards, healers…people who were intent on saving their prince’s life. I never doubted them to save you, to get us home. But that was the first time we were alone and I knew I had no reinforcements, no other chances but me. And that was frightening.” He gives a small smile. “But I also knew I would not give up so easily. I was not leaving that place without you.”

“You relied on your wits, back then. Once I had recovered myself, I was quite impressed.”

Thor’s gaze grows distant. “Yes. Quite impressed, if I recall.” Loki throws a cushion at him, flushing. He can remember that part like it was yesterday, that night in their tent, once some of his fear and trauma had faded away. When he nearly ripped Thor’s tunic, he was so desperate to remove it. Thor’s humorous laugh, _if I knew what using my mind to outwit an opponent would do to you, brother…_ The air warmed by their bodies, the sweat running down their skin. The adrenaline rush, the relief made Loki’s head spin as he sought Thor’s embrace to anchor himself, nearly desperate for contact, for release.

_Shut up_, he had said, pressing his hand to Thor’s laughing face. _I__t is not your wits I desire tonight_. They had fucked until dawn and slept most of the following day in each other’s arms before finally starting back towards Asgard.

Loki looks away, blinking.

“Well,” Thor says. “I recall it as quite the adventure. One of many.” Loki hums in agreement. “I am going to take advantage of the baths while we have them.” He gives Loki a small smile and leaves him ruminating on what he wants.

Loki sits and waits for five minutes, listening to the water running, the way it echoes on the stones. His chest aches with the distance between them. He had been trying so long to cultivate it but now that he has it he feels lost and frustrated. The misadventure had been the last for a long time. They’d been spooked by their near death. They ran back to Asgard, rumors of and intrusions on their relationship be damned. They behaved as perfect princes for an entire century, still occasionally finding solace in each others’ bodies, but increasingly enmeshed back in the larger world. The little bubble of their lives had been popped. Loki no longer had his brother’s full attention. Distance had grown to hurt, hurt had grown to anger, and by the time it had all fallen apart, they were no longer the young men who had fallen into each others arms in the tent.

Loki had rained down the final stabs - literally and figuratively - himself of course. But now as he sits in a too bright, too soft, too shining guest suite on a respite from their meandering refugee voyage, he cannot help but yearn for those days. His hands shake. He cannot stop himself.

Thor’s rejection is inevitable. He is braced for it, but this is how he gets when he’s in such a mood, he notes with bitter irony. He cannot help but chase the pain of the rejection. He knows this about himself, but can’t stop it, and stubbornly ignores the bit of himself that prays Thor will not push him away this time.

He slips into the bathroom, shedding his clothes as he walks. The bath is set into a dark blue tiled floor and is already starting to fill with steam. The air is heavy with it, and the scent of the herbs and flowers used in the water.

Thor says nothing as he slips into the water, just tilts his head. The bath is large enough for both of them to sit and not be touching. The water is just a touch too warm, a touch too fragrant, but Loki doesn’t back down. He ties back his hair.

“What are you doing, Loki?” Thor asks gently.

“Do you wish for me to go?”

A pause.

“Stay,” Thor says quietly.

They’ve been circling it for weeks. Ever since that first night, when Thor had pushed him away but kept his hand heavy and warm on his neck. Every argument, every press of their thighs while they sit beside each other at the table. Every time they reach out in the darkness at night. It was inevitable.

Loki closes the gap. He ends their distant circling when he drifts through the warm water into Thor’s arms.

When their lips first meet, Loki still harbors an instinctive assumption of rejection. That assumption dissipates rapidly as Thor seizes his waist, pulling their bodies flush, and kisses back even more passionately.

They have to part for air, panting. Thor does not push him away this time. “Norns,” He groans. He runs his hair down Loki’s sides. “I can’t stop myself anymore. You will be my undoing.”

Loki smiles wickedly. “That is the plan.”

“Oh, a plan, you want me to think you planned this. That you’re…what? Seducing me?” Thor gentles down his head, seizing his mouth to suck on his lower lip. “I don’t believe you.”

“Is it not working?” He teases when he has his mouth back. He slips a hand down and finds Thor’s erection. “Oh, I think it might be working.”

Thor laughs against his chest, gets a grip under his thighs and pushes them off the wall. The water splashes and ripples as he moves them to the center of the bath.

In the water, they drink each other down hungrily. Their hands never still, their mouths only part briefly for air. Loki cannot get enough touch, enough contact. It is like he has been in the Void this whole time, and he’s finally allowed to breathe.

“Touch me,” He moans when they part. There’s a broken, desperate quality to his voice and tears in his eyes. “Don’t - don’t stop.”

“I am,” Thor whispers back. He runs his hands up and down Loki’s back. “I won’t.”

Loki is desperate and overwhelmed after being touch-starved for so long, then dizzyingly drowned in unwelcome touches on Sakaar. That had felt like too much, all the people constantly _touching_ him, he had loathed it but put up with it with a false smile as he plotted his rise. Thor’s touch feels like a cool rain on overheated skin. He chokes on a cry. He feels harder than he has in recent memory.

“Hush,” Thor says as Loki shakes in his arms, absently rutting against his thigh. “I’m here.”

Loki finds his voice to laugh. “I thought that was my line.” Thor just kisses his neck and slips a hand between them to take his cock in his broad palm. He grips him with a tight, firm fist, twisting his hand as he approaches the head. Loki rests on Thor’s thigh, held steady by his arm secure around his waist. “I’m afraid…I’m afraid I’m not going to…to last…ah!”

Thor kisses his collarbone, moves up to his neck. “It’s all right.” Loki drops his head to Thor’s shoulder, breathing raggedly. He cannot help the little shivers that pass through him, the way he rhythmically thrusts up into Thor’s fist, in time with his little gasps and grunts against his wet skin. The world spins, his breath comes shallow and fast, and then he’s tipping over the edge, spasming in the water as he comes, face going numb.

Thor eases him through it until he is shivering. Then he presses him back against the edge of the tub and kisses him sweetly on the lips. Loki feels unravelled, his limbs weak and uncoordinated, scrubbed raw. Thor pulls back and rubs a thumb over his lower lip. “I do love seeing you like this.”

Loki gathers himself. “Oh?”

“Utterly wrecked.”

“Mm, I think you…you might get what’s coming…” He drops a hand to run over Thor’s stomach. Takes a deep breath to regain his voice. “I think maybe I’ll draw it out. We have hours here, I’ll touch every inch of you except where you truly want, I’ll make you beg for it.”

“Do you have the patience for that?”

Loki hums, licking his lips. “Fair…fair enough.” He does now drop his hand down to stroke once, moves down to cup his balls. “I suppose…that game can wait.” He rolls his balls in his palm. “What do you want? My hands? I would offer my mouth, but we’ve already discussed drowning tonight…” Thor looks guilty again and kisses the tip of his nose. “What do you want?”

“Here.” He runs a hand up his inner thigh.

“Mmm,” He pretends to consider it. “Fine.”

“Tease,” Thor accuses and kisses him again. Thor runs his hands down Loki’s back, pressing his hips forward and nudging his knees together so his thighs are pressed tight. He slides his cock between the hot press of his thighs, thrusting forward slowly. “Too much?” He gasps.

Loki shakes his head. “No, go on.” And with a hand on his lower back, presses him forward, encouraging. Thor sets a steady rhythm, kissing him until that much coordination is too much and they are just barely brushing lips together, each open mouthed and gasping. Loki’s cock starts to rise hard again andhis heart pounds as his head swims.

“I thought of something,” Loki whispers. Thor stills, keeping his hands securely on his lower back.

“What is it?”

“I never gave you back your soul.”

Thor crooks an eyebrow. He starts his thrusts back up, slowly rutting between his pressed thighs. “I was not aware I’d given it to you to begin with.”

“That sorcerer - the oath you tricked him with. You bound your soul and your magic to the sorcerer who had defeated you in a battle of wits, meaning in truth me. Afterwards, I broke the oath and restored to you your magic. But I never gave you back your soul.”

“Ah,” Thor says.

“I apologize for my rudeness. I can break it-”

“I didn’t bind my soul to you then.”

“What?”

“That had been a foregone conclusion. You had always had my soul, and I yours. I needed no oath to the Norns to prove that.” Thor rubs at his hip, looking thoughtful. “For better or for worse, our souls have always been intertwined. And I do not believe either or us would survive giving that up for long.” Loki chews on his lip. “Either way,” Thor drops his hand lower, squeezing at the muscle of his buttock. “I’ve noticed no adverse effects. So if you’d like to hang on to it a bit longer.”

Loki smiles. “In that case,” He says breathily, grinding down to coax a rough moan out of Thor. “I think I’ll keep it.”

“Of course, dear brother,” Thor says before kissing him again. He pulls out of his thighs and instead presses their cocks together, broad palm stroking them both together, drawing out a thin, desperate whine from Loki’s throat. “Take care of it. Seems important, my soul.”

When he comes a second time, dizzy and overcome and clutching at Thor’s back, jerking in the water, it is with a cry of _brother_ and the feeling that he has fit something back together that was askew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this, my first foray into the Thorki ship. I'll likely still write a lot of Gen work going forward, but you never know! I had a lot of fun and I am honestly pretty proud of how this fic came out.
> 
> Thanks again to the moderators for organizing! And to @thunderingraven and @loxxlay as well! <3
> 
> Comments/Kudos/Shares/Frogs are always appreciated! 
> 
> Find me on tumblr [@bereft-of-frogs](https://bereft-of-frogs.tumblr.com/) and twitter as [@bereft_of_frogs](https://twitter.com/bereft_of_frogs).


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